


All of the Moments of Nico Di Angelo

by Callie_Girl



Series: All of the moments of... [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, There are more characters but I'm not tagging them all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 122,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callie_Girl/pseuds/Callie_Girl
Summary: I'm going through all of the Rick Riordan books and finding every time they so much as mention Nico because I am very bored. Do with this what you will.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo & Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Series: All of the moments of... [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948549
Comments: 13
Kudos: 57





	1. The Titan's Curse

"There they are." Grover nodded toward a couple of younger kids arguing in the bleachers. "Bianca and Nico di Angelo."

The girl wore a floppy green cap, like she was trying to hide her face. The boy was obviously her little brother. They both had dark silky hair and olive skin, and they used their hands a lot as they talked. The boy was shuffling some kind of trading cards. His sister seemed to be scolding him about something. She kept looking around like she sensed something was wrong.

Annabeth said, "Do they… I mean, have you told them?"

Grover shook his head. "You know how it is. That could put them in more danger. Once they realize who they are, their scent becomes stronger."

He looked at me, and I nodded. I'd never really understood what half-bloods "smell" like to monsters and satyrs, but I knew that your scent could get you killed. And the more powerful a demigod you became, the more you smelled like a monster's lunch.

"So let's grab them and get out of here," I said.

I started forward, but Thalia put her hand on my shoulder. The vice principal, Dr. Thorn, had slipped out of a doorway near the bleachers and was standing near the di Angelo siblings. He nodded coldly in our direction. His blue eye seemed to glow. 

Suddenly she froze. "They're gone."

"What?"

I followed her gaze. The bleachers. The two half-blood kids, Bianca and Nico, were no longer there. The door next to the bleachers was wide open. Dr. Thorn was nowhere in sight. 

"We have to get Thalia and Grover!" Annabeth looked around frantically. "Oh, where'd they dance off to? Come on!" 

I jogged down the corridor, but when I got to the other end, no one was there. I opened a door and found myself back in the main entry hall. I was completely turned around. I didn't see Dr. Thorn anywhere, but there on the opposite side of the room were the di Angelo kids. They stood frozen in horror, staring right at me.

I advanced slowly, lowering the tip of my sword. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." They didn't answer. Their eyes were full of fear. What was wrong with them? Where  
was Dr. Thorn? Maybe he'd sensed the presence of Riptide and retreated. Monsters hated celestial bronze weapons. 

"Don't talk to my sister that way.'" Nico said. His voice quivered, but I was impressed that he had the guts to say anything at all.

Dr. Thorn made a growling sound that definitely wasn't human. It made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, but I forced myself to keep walking and pretend I was being a good little captive. Meanwhile, I projected my thoughts like crazy—anything to get Grover's attention: _Grover! Apples! Tin cans! Get your furry goat behind out here and bring some heavily armed friends!_

 _"_ Halt," Thorn said.

The woods had opened up. We'd reached a cliff overlooking the sea. At least, I sensed the sea was down there, hundreds of feet below. I could hear the waves churning and I could smell the cold salty froth. But all I could see was mist and darkness. Dr. Thorn pushed us toward the edge. I stumbled, and Bianca caught me.

"Thanks," I murmured.

"What is he?" she whispered. "How do we fight him?"

"I… I'm working on it."

"I'm scared," Nico mumbled. He was fiddling with something—a little metal toy soldier of some kind. 

"Who wants us?" Bianca demanded. "Because if you think you'll get a ransom, you're wrong. We don't have any family. Nico and I…" Her voice broke a little. "We've got no one but each other." 

"Where are you taking us?" Nico said.

"You should be honored, my boy. You will have the opportunity to join a great army! Just like that silly game you play with cards and dolls."

"They're not dolls! They're figurines! And you can take your great army and—"

"Now, now," Dr. Thorn warned. "You will change your mind about joining us, my boy. And if you do not, well… there are other uses for half-bloods. We have many monstrous mouths to feed. The Great Stirring is underway." 

"Who are you people?" Bianca di Angelo demanded. "And what is that?" 

"A manticore?" Nico gasped. "He's got three thousand attack power and plus five saving throws!"

I didn't know what he was talking about, but I didn't have time to worry about it. The manticore clawed Grover's magic weeds to shreds then turned toward us with a snarl.

"Get down!" Annabeth pushed the di Angelos flat into the snow. At the last second, I remembered my own shield. I hit my wristwatch, and metal plating spiraled out into a thick bronze shield. Not a moment too soon. The thorns impacted against it with such force they dented the metal. The beautiful shield, a gift from my brother, was badly damaged. I wasn't sure it would even stop a second volley. 

"An Olympian… athlete?"

"No," Zoe said. "One of the gods."

"Cool!" said Nico.

"No!" Bianca's voice quavered. "This is not cool!"

Nico danced around like he needed to use the restroom. "Does Zeus really have lightning bolts that do six hundred damage? Does he get extra movement points for—" 

"Nico, shut up!" Bianca put her hands to her face. "This is not your stupid Mythomagic game, okay? There are no gods!"

As anxious as I felt about Annabeth—all I wanted to do was search for her—I couldn't help feeling sorry for the di Angelos. I remembered what it was like for me when I first learned I was a demigod. 

"Oo!" Nico raised his hand. "What about Dr. Thorn? That was awesome how you shot him with arrows! Is he dead?"

"He was a manticore," Artemis said. "Hopefully he is destroyed for now, but monsters never truly die. They re-form over and over again, and they must be hunted whenever they reappear."

"Or they'll hunt us," Thalia said.

Bianca di Angelo shivered. "That explains… Nico, you remember last summer, those guys who tried to attack us in the alley in DC?"

"And that bus driver," Nico said. "The one with the ram's horns. I told you that was real."

"That's why Grover has been watching you," I said. "To keep you safe, if you turned out to be half-bloods."

"Grover?" Bianca stared at him. "You're a demigod?"

"Well, a satyr, actually." He kicked off his shoes and displayed his goat hooves. I thought Bianca was going to faint right there. 

"Grover, put your shoes back on," Thalia said. "You're freaking her out."

"Hey, my hooves are clean!"

"Bianca," I said, "we came here to help you. You and Nico need training to survive. Dr. Thorn won't be the last monster you meet. You need to come to camp."

"Camp?" she asked.

"Camp Half-Blood," I said. "It's where half-bloods learn to survive and stuff. You can join us, stay there year-round if you like."

"Sweet, let's go!" said Nico.

"Wait," Bianca shook her head. "I don't—"

"There is another option," Zoe said.

"No, there isn't!" Thalia said. 

"And, Bianca, come with me. I would like to speak with you."

"What about me?" Nico asked.

Artemis considered the boy. "Perhaps you can show Grover how to play that card game you enjoy. I'm sure Grover would be happy to entertain you for a while… as a favor to me?"

Grover just about tripped over himself getting up. "You bet! Come on, Nico!"

Nico and Grover walked off toward the woods, talking about hit points and armor ratings and a bunch of other geeky stuff. Artemis led a confused-looking Bianca along the cliff. The Hunters began unpacking their knapsacks and making camp. 

Finally, one of the Hunters brought me my backpack. Grover and Nico came back from their walk, and Grover helped me fix up my wounded arm.

"It's green!" Nico said with delight.

"Hold still," Grover told me. "Here, eat some ambrosia while I clean that out." 

I winced as he dressed the wound, but the ambrosia square helped. It tasted like homemade brownie, dissolving in my mouth and sending a warm feeling through my whole body. Between that and the magic salve Grover used, my shoulder felt better within a couple of minutes. Nico rummaged through his own bag, which the Hunters had apparently packed for him, though how they'd snuck into Westover Hall unseen, I didn't know. Nico laid out a bunch of figurines in the snow—little battle replicas of Greek gods and heroes. I recognized Zeus with a lightning bolt, Ares with a spear, Apollo with his sun chariot.

"Big collection," I said.

Nico grinned. "I've got almost all of them, plus their holographic cards! Well, except for a few really rare ones."

"You've been playing this game a long time?"

"Just this year. Before that…" He knit his eyebrows.

"What?" I asked.

"I forget. That's weird."

He looked unsettled, but it didn't last long. "Hey, can I see that sword you were using?"

I showed him Riptide, and explained how it turned from a pen into a sword just by uncapping it.

"Cool! Does it ever run out of ink?"

"Um, well, I don't actually write with it."

"Are you really the son of Poseidon?"

"Well, yeah."

"Can you surf really well, then?"

I looked at Grover, who was trying hard not to laugh.

"Jeez, Nico," I said. "I've never really tried."

He went on asking questions. Did I fight a lot with Thalia, since she was a daughter of Zeus? (I didn't answer that one.) If Annabeth's mother was Athena, the goddess of wisdom, then why didn't Annabeth know better than to fall off a cliff? (I tried not to strangle Nico for asking that one.) Was Annabeth my girlfriend? (At this point, I was ready to stick the kid in a meat-flavored sack and throw him to the wolves.)

I figured any second he was going to ask me how many hit points I had, and I'd lose my cool completely, but then Zoe Nightshade came up to us. 

"Bianca, this is crazy," I said. "What about your brother? Nico can't be a Hunter."

"Certainly not," Artemis agreed. "He will go to camp. Unfortunately, that's the best boys can do."

"Hey!" I protested.

"You can see him from time to time," Artemis assured Bianca. "But you will be free of responsibility. He will have the camp counselors to take care of him. And you will have a new family. Us."

"A new family," Bianca repeated dreamily. "Free of responsibility." 

"Do not despair, Percy Jackson," Artemis said. "You will still get to show the di Angelos your camp. And if Nico so chooses, he can stay there."

"Great," I said, trying not to sound surly. "How are we supposed to get there?"

The Hunters broke camp as quickly as they'd set it up. I stood shivering in the snow (unlike the Hunters, who didn't seem to feel at all uncomfortable), and Artemis stared into the east like she was expecting something. Bianca sat off to one side, talking with Nico. I could tell from his gloomy face that she was explaining her decision to join the Hunt. I couldn't help thinking how selfish it was of her, abandoning her brother like that. 

I looked at the Maserati, which would seat two people max. There were about twenty of us.

"Cool car," Nico said.

"Thanks, kid," Apollo said.

"But how will we all fit?"

"Oh." Apollo seemed to notice the problem for the first time. "Well, yeah. I hate to change out of sports-car mode, but I suppose…" 

The Hunters piled into the van. They all crammed into the back so they'd be as far away as possible from Apollo and the rest of us highly infectious males, Bianca sat with them, leaving her little brother to hang in the front with us, which seemed cold to me, but Nico didn't seem to mind.

"This is so cool!" Nico said, jumping up and down in the driver's seat. "Is this really the sun? I thought Helios and Selene were the sun and moon gods. How come sometimes it's them and sometimes it's you and Artemis?"

"Downsizing," Apollo said. "The Romans started it. They couldn't afford all those temple sacrifices, so they laid off Helios and Selene and folded their duties into our job descriptions. My sis got the moon. I got the sun. It was pretty annoying at first, but at least I got this cool car."

"But how does it work?" Nico asked. "I thought the sun was a big fiery ball of gas!"

Apollo chuckled and ruffled Nico's hair. "That rumor probably got started because Artemis used to call me a big fiery ball of gas. Seriously, kid, it depends on whether you're talking astronomy or philosophy. You want to talk astronomy? Bah, what fun is that? You want to talk about how humans think about the sun? Ah, now that's more interesting. They've got a lot riding on the sun… er, so to speak. It keeps them warm, grows their crops, powers engines, makes everything look, well, sunnier. This chariot is built out of human dreams about the sun, kid. It's as old as Western Civilization. Every day, it drives across the sky from east to west, lighting up all those puny little mortal lives. The chariot is a manifestation of the sun's power, the way mortals perceive it. Make sense?"

Nico shook his head. "No."

"Well then, just think of it as a really powerful, really dangerous solar car."

"Can I drive?"

"No. Too young." 

See, the camp has the ultimate magic climate control. Nothing gets inside the borders unless the director, Mr. D, wants it to. I thought it would be warm and sunny, but instead the snow had been allowed to fall lightly. Frost covered the chariot track and the strawberry fields. The cabins were decorated with tiny flickering lights, like Christmas lights, except they seemed to be balls of real fire. More lights glowed in the woods, and weirdest of all, a fire flickered in the attic window of the Big House, where the Oracle dwelt, imprisoned in an old mummified body. I wondered if the spirit of Delphi was roasting marshmallows up there or something.

"Whoa," Nico said as he climbed off the bus. "Is that a climbing wall?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Why is there lava pouring down it?"

"Little extra challenge. Come on. I'll introduce you to Chiron. Zoe, have you met—" 

Zoe rolled her eyes, but I guess she figured there was no getting rid of Grover. The Hunters shouldered their packs and their bows and headed off toward the cabins. As Bianca di Angelo was leaving, she leaned over and whispered something in her brothers ear. She looked at him for an answer, but Nico just scowled and turned away. 

Nico was still looking grumpy. I wondered what his sister had told him.

"Who's Chiron?" he asked. "I don't have his figurine."

"Our activities director," I said. "He's… well, you'll see.

"If those Hunter girls don't like him," Nico grumbled, "that's good enough for me. Let's go."  
  


He smiled when he saw us. "Percy! Thalia! Ah, and this must be—"

"Nico di Angelo," I said. "He and his sister are half-bloods."

Chiron breathed a sigh of relief. "You succeeded, then." 

"Grover, perhaps you should take our young friend to the den and show him our orientation film."

"But… Oh, right. Yes, sir."

"Orientation film?" Nico asked. "Is it G or PG? 'Cause Bianca is kinda strict—"

"It's PG-13," Grover said.

"Cool!" Nico happily followed him out of the room. 

For a second, there was no sound except the crackle of the fire. The light reflected in Mr. D's eyes, giving him a sinister look. He opened his mouth to say something—probably a curse that would blast me to smithereens—when Nico burst into the room, followed by Grover.

"SO COOL!" Nico yelled, holding his hands out to Chiron. "You're… you're a centaur!"

Chiron managed a nervous smile. "Yes, Mr. di Angelo, if you please. Though, I prefer to stay in human form in this wheelchair for, ah, first encounters."

"And, whoa!" He looked at Mr. D. "You're the wine dude? No way!"

Mr. D turned his eyes away from me and gave Nico a look of loathing. "The wine dude?"

"Dionysus, right? Oh, wow! I've got your figurine."

"My figurine."

"In my game, Mythomagic. And a holofoil card, too! And even though you've only got like five hundred attack points and everybody thinks you're the lamest god card, I totally think your powers are sweet!" 

"Ah." Mr. D seemed truly perplexed, which probably saved my life. "Well, that's… gratifying."

"Percy," Chiron said quickly, "you and Thalia go down to the cabins. Inform the campers we'll be playing capture the flag tomorrow evening."

"Capture the flag?" I asked. "But we don't have enough—"

"It is a tradition," Chiron said. "A friendly match, whenever the Hunters visit."

"Yeah," Thalia muttered. "I bet it's real friendly."

Chiron jerked his head toward Mr. D, who was still frowning as Nico talked about how many defense points all the gods had in his game. "Run along now," Chiron told us.

"Oh, right," Thalia said. "Come on, Percy." 

I mean, the food was excellent as usual. You can't go wrong with barbecue, pizza, and never-empty soda goblets. The torches and braziers kept the outdoor pavilion warm, but we all had to sit with our cabin mates, which meant I was alone at the Poseidon table. Thalia sat alone at the Zeus table, but we couldn't sit together. Camp rules. At least the Hephaestus, Ares, and Hermes cabins had a few people each. Nico sat with the Stoll brothers, since new campers always got stuck in the Hermes cabin if their Olympian parent was unknown. The Stoll brothers seemed to be trying to convince Nico that poker was a much better game than Mythomagic. I hoped Nico didn't have any money to lose. 

On our team, we had Beckendorf and two other Hephaestus guys, a few from the Ares cabin (though it still seemed strange that Clarisse wasn't around), the Stoll brothers and Nico from Hermes cabin, and a few Aphrodite kids. It was weird that the Aphrodite cabin wanted to play. Usually they sat on the sidelines, chatted, and checked their reflections in the river and stuff, but when they heard we were fighting the Hunters, they were raring to go. 

"Cool." Thalia turned to help some of the Aphrodite kids, who were having trouble suiting up their armor without breaking their nails. Nico di Angelo ran up to me with a big  
grin on his face.

"Percy, this is awesome!" His blue-feathered bronze helmet was falling in his eyes, and his breastplate was about six sizes too big. I wondered if there was any way I'd looked that ridiculous when I'd first arrived. Unfortunately, I probably had.

Nico lifted his sword with effort. "Do we get to kill the other team?"

"Well… no."

"But the Hunters are immortal, right?"

"That's only if they don't fall in battle. Besides—"

"It would be awesome if we just, like, resurrected as soon as we were killed, so we could keep fighting, and—"

"Nico, this is serious. Real swords. These can hurt."

He stared at me, a little disappointed, and I realized that I'd just sounded like my mother. Whoa. Not a good sign.

I patted Nico on the shoulder. "Hey, it's cool. Just follow the team. Stay out of Zoe's way. We'll have a blast."

Chiron's hoof thundered on the pavilion floor.

"Heroes!" he called. "You know the rules! The creek is the boundary line. Blue team— Camp Half-Blood—shall take the west woods. Hunters of Artemis—red team—shall take the east woods. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. No intentional maiming, please! All magic items are allowed. To your positions!"

"Sweet," Nico whispered next to me. "What kind of magic items? Do I get one?"

I was about to break it to him that he didn't, when Thalia said, "Blue team! Follow me!"

They cheered and followed. I had to run to catch up, and tripped over somebody's shield, so I didn't look much like a co-captain. More like an idiot.

We set our flag at the top of Zeus's Fist. It's this cluster of boulders in the middle of the west woods that, if you look at it just the right way, looks like a huge fist sticking out of the ground. If you look at it from any other side, it looks like a pile of enormous deer droppings, but Chiron wouldn't let us call the place the Poop Pile, especially after it had been named for Zeus, who doesn't have much of a sense of humor.

Anyway, it was a good place to set the flag. The top boulder was twenty feet tall and really hard to climb, so the flag was clearly visible, like the rules said it had to be, and it didn't matter that the guards weren't allowed to stand within ten yards of it.

I set Nico on guard duty with Beckendorf and the Stoll brothers, figuring he'd be safely out of the way. 

"What's happening?" Nico demanded, trying to climb up next to me.

My mind was racing. Thalia would never get through, but the Hunters were divided. With that many on either flank, their center had to be wide open. If I moved fast…

I looked at Beckendorf. "Can you guys hold the fort?"

Beckendorf snorted. "Of course."

"I'm going in.

The Stoll brothers and Nico cheered as I raced toward the boundary line. 

I heard yelling from our side of the creek. Beckendorf and Nico were running toward me. I thought they were coming to welcome me back, but then I saw they were chasing someone—Zoe Nightshade, racing toward me like a cheetah, dodging campers with no trouble. And she had our flag in her hands. 

It was Nico, but it wasn't even dawn yet. Nowhere near time for breakfast. What was he doing up there?

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was more time for Nico to tell me about his Mythomagic game. But something was wrong. I could tell by the way he was crouching. 

"Blackjack," I said, "set me down over there, will you? Behind that column."

I almost blew it.

I was coming up the steps behind Nico. He didn't see me at all. He was behind a column, peeking around the corner, all his attention focused on the dining area. I was five feet away from him, and I was about to say What are you doing? real loud, when it occurred to me that he was pulling a Grover: he was spying on the Hunters.

There were voices—two girls talking at one of the dining tables. At this ungodly hour of the morning? Well, unless you're the goddess of dawn, I guess. I took Annabeth's magic cap out of my pocket and put it on. I didn't feel any different, but when I raised my arms I couldn't see them. I was invisible.

I crept up to Nico and sneaked around him. I couldn't see the girls very well in the dark, but I knew their voices: Zoe and Bianca. It sounded like they were arguing.

"It cannot be cured," Zoe was saying. "Not quickly, at any rate." 

Nico scooted out of their way. He was faster than me. 

I could tell what Nico was thinking. He took a deep breath and was about to run after his sister when I took off the invisibility cap and said, "Wait."

He almost slipped on the icy steps as he spun around to find me. "Where did you come from?"

"I've been here the whole time. Invisible."

He mouthed the word invisible. "Wow. Cool."

"How did you know Zoe and your sister were here?"

He blushed. "I heard them walk by the Hermes cabin. I don't… I don't sleep too well at camp. So I heard footsteps, and them whispering. And so I kind of followed."

"And now you're thinking about following them on the quest," I guessed.

"How did you know that?"

"Because if it was my sister, I'd probably be thinking the same thing. But you can't."

He looked defiant. "Because I'm too young?"

"Because they won't let you. They'll catch you and send you back here. And… yeah, because you're too young. You remember the manticore? There will be lots more like that. More dangerous. Some of the heroes will die." 

His shoulders sagged. He shifted from foot to foot. "Maybe you're right. But, but you can go for me."

"Say what?"

"You can turn invisible. You can go!"

"The Hunters don't like boys," I reminded him. "If they find out—"

"Don't let them find out. Follow them invisibly. Keep an eye on my sister! You have to. Please?"

"Nico—"

"You're planning to go anyway, aren't you?"

I wanted to say no. But he looked me in the eyes, and I somehow couldn't lie to him.

"Yeah," I said. "I have to find Annabeth. I have to help, even if they don't want me to."

"I won't tell on you," he said. "But you have to promise to keep my sister safe."

"I… that's a big thing to promise, Nico, on a trip like this. Besides, she's got Zoe, Grover, and Thalia—"

"Promise," he insisted.

"I'll do my best. I promise that."

"Get going, then!" he said. "Good luck!"

It was crazy. I wasn't packed. I had nothing but the cap and the sword and the clothes I was wearing. I was supposed to be going home to Manhattan this morning. "Tell Chiron—"

"I'll make something up." Nico smiled crookedly. "I'm good at that. Go on!"

I ran, putting on Annabeth's cap. As the sun came up, I turned invisible. I hit the top of Half-Blood Hill in time to see the camp's van disappearing down the farm road, probably Argus taking the quest group into the city. After that they would be on their own. 

"D.C. is about sixty miles from here," Bianca said. "Nico and I…" She frowned. "We used to live there. That's… that's strange. I'd forgotten." 

Bianca looked pleased. "Yeah, well. I saw that station when Nico and I came through last summer. I remember being really surprised to see it, because it wasn't here when we used to live in D.C." 

"Nico didn't understand my decision," Bianca murmured. She looked at me like she wanted assurance it was okay.

"He'll be all right," I said. "Camp Half-Blood takes in a lot of young kids. They did that for Annabeth." 

Bianca nodded. "I hope we find her. Annabeth, I mean. She's lucky to have a friend like you."

"Lot of good it did her."

"Don't blame yourself Percy. You risked your life to save my brother and me. I mean, that was seriously brave. If I hadn't met you, I wouldn't have felt okay about leaving Nico at the camp. I figured if there were people like you there, Nico would be fine. You're a good guy."

The compliment took me by surprise. "Even though I knocked you down in capture the flag?"

She laughed. "Okay. Except for that, you're a good guy."

A couple hundred yards away, Grover and Zoe came out of the coffee shop loaded down with pastry bags and drinks. I kind of didn't want them to come back yet. It was weird, but I realized I liked talking to Bianca. She wasn't so bad. A lot easier to hang out with than Zoe Nightshade, anyway.

"So what's the story with you and Nico?" I asked her. "Where did you go to school before Westover?"

She frowned. "I think it was a boarding school in D.C. It seems like so long ago."

"You never lived with your parents? I mean, your mortal parent?"

"We were told our parents were dead. There was a bank trust for us. A lot of money, I think. A lawyer would come by once in a while to check on us. Then Nico and I had to leave that school."

"Why?"

She knit her eyebrows. "We had to go somewhere. I remember it was important. We traveled a long way. And we stayed in this hotel for a few weeks. And then… I don't know. One day a different lawyer came to get us out. He said it was time for us to leave. He drove us back east, through D.C. Then up into Maine. And we started going to Westover."

It was a strange story. Then again, Bianca and Nico were half-bloods. Nothing would be normal for them.

"So you've been raising Nico pretty much all your life?" I asked. "Just the two of you?"

She nodded. "That's why I wanted to join the Hunters so bad. I mean, I know it's selfish, but I wanted my own life and friends. I love Nico—don't get me wrong—I just needed to find out what it would be like not to be a big sister twenty-four hours a day." 

Thalia's eyes turned sad. I guess she knew what it was like to get pulled out of time for a while. "It's okay, Bianca, The important thing is you and Nico are safe. You made it out."

"But how?" I said. "We were only in there for an hour and we barely escaped. How could you have escaped after being there for so long?" 

"Come on!" I told Bianca. But she stayed frozen. From her pocket, she brought out a small metal figurine, a statue of a god. "It… it was for Nico. It was the only statue he didn't have."

"How can you think of Mythomagic at a time like this?" I said. 

"It's my fault the monster came after us," she said. "It's my responsibility. Here." She picked up the little god statue and pressed it into my hand. "If anything happens, give that to Nico. Tell him… tell him I'm sorry."

"Bianca, no!"

My hand closed around the little figurine that had cost her life. I still couldn't even tell what god it was supposed to be. Nico would know.

Oh, gods… what was I going to tell Nico?

I wanted to believe that Bianca was still alive somewhere. But I had a bad feeling that she was gone for good. 

There was a knock on the door, and Nico di Angelo came huffing into the parlor, his cheeks bright red from the cold.

He was smiling, but he looked around anxiously. "Hey! Where's… where's my sister?"

Dead silence. I stared at Chiron. I couldn't believe nobody had told him yet. And then I realized why. They'd been waiting for us to appear, to tell Nico in person. That was the last thing I wanted to do. But I owed it to Bianca.

"Hey, Nico." I got up from my comfortable chair. "Let's take a walk, okay? We need to talk."

He took the news in silence, which somehow made it worse. I kept talking, trying to explain how it had happened, how Bianca had sacrificed herself to save the quest. But I felt like I was only making things worse.

"She wanted you to have this." I brought out the little god figurine Bianca had found in the junkyard. Nico held it in his palm and stared at it.

We were standing at the dining pavilion, just where we'd last spoken before I went on the quest. The wind was bitter cold, even with the camp's magical weather protection. Snow fell lightly against the marble steps. I figured outside the camp borders, there must be a blizzard happening.

"You promised you would protect her," Nico said.

He might as well have stabbed me with a rusty dagger.

It would've hurt less than reminding me of my promise.

"Nico," I said. "I tried. But Bianca gave herself up to save the rest of us. I told her not to. But she—"

"You promised!"

He glared at me, his eyes rimmed with red. He closed his small fist around the god statue. 

"I shouldn't have trusted you." His voice broke. "You lied to me. My nightmares were right!"

"Wait. What nightmares?"

He flung the god statue to the ground. It clattered across the icy marble. "I hate you!"

"She might be alive," I said desperately. "I don't know for sure—"

"She's dead." He closed his eyes. His whole body trembled with rage. "I should've known it earlier. She's in the Fields of Asphodel, standing before the judges right now, being evaluated. I can feel it."

"What do you mean, you can feel it?"

Before he could answer, I heard a new sound behind me. A hissing, clattering noise I recognized all too well.

I drew my sword and Nico gasped. I whirled and found myself facing four skeleton warriors. They grinned fleshless grins and advanced with swords drawn. I wasn't sure how they'd made it inside the camp, but it didn't matter. I'd never get help in time.

"You're trying to kill me!" Nico screamed. "You brought these… these things?"

"No! I mean, yes, they followed me, but no! Nico, run. They can't be destroyed."

"I don't trust you!"

The first skeleton charged. I knocked aside its blade, but the other three kept coming. I sliced one in half, but immediately it began to knit back together. I knocked another's head off but it just kept fighting.

"Run, Nico!" I yelled. "Get help!"

"No!" He pressed his hands to his ears.

I couldn't fight four at once, not if they wouldn't die. I slashed, whirled, blocked, jabbed, but they just kept advancing. It was only a matter of seconds before the zombies overpowered me.

"No!" Nico shouted louder. "Go away!"

The ground rumbled beneath me. The skeletons froze. I rolled out of the way just as a crack opened at the feet of the four warriors. The ground ripped apart like a snapping mouth. Flames erupted from the fissure, and the earth swallowed the skeletons in one loud CRUNCH!

Silence.

In the place where the skeletons had stood, a twenty-foot-long scar wove across the marble floor of the pavilion. Otherwise there was no sign of the warriors. Awestruck, I looked to Nico. "How did you—"

"Go away!" he yelled. "I hate you! I wish you were dead!"

The ground didn't swallow me up, but Nico ran down the steps, heading toward the woods. I started to follow but slipped and fell to the icy steps. When I got up, I noticed what I'd slipped on.

I picked up the god statue Bianca had retrieved from the junkyard for Nico. The only statue he didn't have, she'd said. A last gift from his sister.

I stared at it with dread, because now I understood why the face looked familiar. I'd seen it before.

It was a statue of Hades, Lord of the Dead.

Annabeth and Grover helped me search the woods for hours, but there was no sign of Nico di Angelo.

"We have to tell Chiron," Annabeth said, out of breath.

"No," I said.

She and Grover both stared at me.

"Um," Grover said nervously, "what do you mean… no?

I was still trying to figure out why I'd said that, but the words spilled out of me. "We can't let anyone know. I don't think anyone realizes that Nico is a—"

"A son of Hades," Annabeth said. "Percy, do you have any idea how serious this is? Even Hades broke the oath! This is horrible!"

"I don't think so," I said. "I don't think Hades broke the oath."

"What?"

"He's their dad," I said, "but Bianca and Nico have been out of commission for a long time, since even before World War II."

"The Lotus Casino!" Grover said, and he told Annabeth about the conversations we'd had with Bianca on the quest. "She and Nico were stuck there for decades. They were born before the oath was made."

I nodded.

"But how did they get out?" Annabeth protested. 

"I don't know," I admitted. "Bianca said a lawyer came and got them and drove them to Westover Hall. I don't know who that could've been, or why. Maybe it's part of this Great Stirring thing. I don't think Nico understands who he is. But we can't go telling anyone. Not even Chiron. If the Olympians find out—"

"It might start them fighting among each other again," Annabeth said. "That's the last thing we need." 

Grover looked worried. "But you can't hide things from the gods. Not forever."

"I don't need forever," I said. "Just two years. Until I'm sixteen."

Annabeth paled. "But, Percy, this means the prophecy might not be about you. It might be about Nico.We have to—"

"No," I said. "I choose the prophecy. It will be about me." 

"Why are you saying that?" she cried. "You want to be responsible for the whole world?"

It was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't say that. I knew I had to step up and claim it.

"I can't let Nico be in any more danger," I said. "I owe that much to his sister. I… let them both down. I'm not going to let that poor kid suffer any more."

"The poor kid who hates you and wants to see you dead," Grover reminded me.

"Maybe we can find him," I said. "We can convince him it's okay, hide him someplace safe."

Annabeth shivered. "If Luke gets hold of him—"

"Luke won't," I said. "I'll make sure he's got other things to worry about. Namely, me."

I wasn't sure Chiron believed the story Annabeth and I told him. I think he could tell I was holding something back about Nico's disappearance, but in the end, he accepted it. Unfortunately, Nico wasn't the first half-blood to disappear. 

"So young," Chiron sighed, his hands on the rail of the front porch. "Alas, I hope he was eaten by monsters. Much better than being recruited into the Titans' army." 


	2. The Battle of the Labrynth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't clear, I would die for Nico Di Angelo.

I tried to talk to Annabeth, but she was acting like I’d just punched her grandmother. All I managed to get out of her was that she’d had a monster-infested spring in San Francisco; she’d come back to camp twice since Christmas but wouldn’t tell me why (which kind of ticked me off, because she hadn’t even told me she was in New York); and she’d learned nothing about the whereabouts of Nico di Angelo (long story). 

I was feeling good. It was almost like a normal day at camp. Then dinner came, and all the campers lined up by cabin and marched into the dining pavilion. Most of them ignored the sealed fissure in the marble floor at the entrance—a ten-foot-long jagged scar that hadn’t been there last summer— but I was careful to step over it.

“Big crack,” Tyson said when we were at our table. “Earthquake, maybe?”

“No,” I said. “Not an earthquake.”

I wasn’t sure I should tell him. It was a secret only Annabeth and Grover and I knew. But looking in Tyson’s big eye, I knew I couldn’t hide it from him.

“Nico di Angelo,” I said, lowering my voice. “He’s this half-blood kid we brought to camp last winter. He, uh…he asked me to guard his sister on a quest, and I failed. She died. Now he blames me.”

Tyson frowned. “So he put a crack in the floor?”

“These skeletons attacked us,” I said. “Nico told them to go away, and the ground just opened up and swallowed them. Nico…” I looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Nico is a son of Hades.”

Tyson nodded thoughtfully. “The god of dead people.” 

“Yeah.”

“So the Nico boy is gone now?”

“I—I guess. I tried to search for him this spring. So did Annabeth. But we didn’t have any luck. This is secret, Tyson. Okay? If anyone found out he was a son of Hades, he would be in danger. You can’t even tell Chiron.”

“The bad prophecy,” Tyson said. “Titans might use him if they knew.”

I stared at him. Sometimes it was easy to forget that as big and childlike as he was, Tyson was pretty smart. He knew that the next child of the Big Three gods—Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades—who turned sixteen was prophesied to either save or destroy Mount Olympus. Most people assumed that meant me, but if I died before I turned sixteen, the prophecy could just as easily apply to Nico.

“Exactly,” I said. “So—”

“Mouth sealed,” Tyson promised. “Like the crack in the ground.” 

The mist shimmered. I saw the dark shore of a river. Wisps of fog drifted across black water. The beach was strewn with jagged volcanic rock. A young boy squatted at the riverbank, tending a campfire. The flames burned an unnatural blue color. Then I saw the boy’s face. It was Nico di Angelo.

He was throwing pieces of paper into the fire—Mythomagic trading cards, part of the game he’d been obsessed with last winter. Nico was only ten, or maybe eleven by now, but he looked older. His hair had grown longer. It was shaggy and almost touched his shoulders. His eyes were dark. His olive skin had turned paler. He wore ripped black jeans and a battered aviator’s jacket that was several sizes too big, unzipped over a black shirt. His face was grimy, his eyes a little wild. He looked like a kid who’d been living on the streets.

I waited for him to look at me. No doubt he’d get crazy angry, start accusing me of letting his sister die. But he didn’t seem to notice me. I stayed quiet, not daring to move. If he hadn’t sent this Iris-message, who had?

Nico tossed another trading card into the blue flames. “Useless,” he muttered. “I can’t believe I ever liked this stuff.”

“A childish game, master,” another voice agreed. It seemed to come from near the fire, but I couldn’t see who was talking.

Nico stared across the river. On the far shore was black beach shrouded in haze. I recognized it: the Underworld. Nico was camping at the edge of the river Styx.

“I’ve failed,” he muttered. “There’s no way to get her back.”

The other voice kept silent.

Nico turned toward it doubtfully. “Is there? Speak.”

Something shimmered. I thought it was just firelight. Then I realized it was the form of a man—a wisp of blue smoke, a shadow. If you looked at him head-on, he wasn’t there. But if you looked out of the corner of your eye, you could make out his shape. A ghost.

“It has never been done,” the ghost said. “But there may be a way.”

“Tell me,” Nico commanded. His eyes shined with a fierce light.

“An exchange,” the ghost said. “A soul for a soul.”

“I’ve offered!”

“Not yours,” the ghost said. “You cannot offer your father a soul he will eventually collect anyway. Nor will he be anxious for the death of his son. I mean a soul that should have died already. Someone who has cheated death.”

Nico’s face darkened. “Not that again. You’re talking about murder.” 

“I’m talking about justice,” the ghost said. “Vengeance.”

“Those are not the same thing.”

The ghost laughed dryly. “You will learn differently as you get older.”

Nico stared at the flames. “Why can’t I at least summon her? I want to talk to her. She would…she would help me.”

“I will help you,” the ghost promised. “Have I not saved you many times? Did I not lead you through the maze and teach you to use your powers? Doyou want revenge for your sister or not?”

I didn’t like the ghost’s tone of voice. He reminded me of a kid at my old school, a bully who used to convince other kids to do stupid things like steal lab equipment and vandalize the teachers’ cars. The bully never got in trouble himself, but he got tons of other kids suspended.

Nico turned from the fire so the ghost couldn’t see him, but I could. A tear traced its way down his face. “Very well. You have a plan?”

“Oh, yes,” the ghost said, sounding quite pleased. “We have many dark roads to travel. We must start—”

The image shimmered. Nico vanished. The woman’s voice from the mist said, _Please deposit one drachma for another five minutes._

There were no other coins in the fountain. I grabbed for my pockets, but I was wearing pajamas. I lunged for the nightstand to check for spare change, but the Iris-message had already blinked out, and the room went dark again.

The connection was broken.

I stood in the middle of the cabin, listening to the gurgle of the saltwater fountain and the ocean waves outside.

Nico was alive. He was trying to bring his sister back from the dead. And I had a feeling I knew what soul he wanted to exchange—someone who had cheated death. Vengeance.

Nico di Angelo would come looking for me.

“Poseidon,” I said. Then I whispered, “Help me with Nico, and Luke, and Grover’s problem…” 

I thought about my dream of Nico at the River Styx. “So…is the Labyrinth part of the Underworld?”

Once the Stolls had passed, we forged deeper into the west woods where the monsters were wilder. We were standing on a ledge overlooking a marshy pond when Annabeth tensed. “This is where we stopped looking.” 

It took me a second to realize what she meant. Last winter, when we’d given up hope of finding him, Grover, Annabeth, and I had stood on this rock, and I’d convinced them not to tell Chiron the truth: that Nico was a son of Hades. At the time it seemed the right thing to do. I wanted to protect his identity. I wanted to be the one to find him and make things right for what had happened to his sister. Now, six months later, I hadn’t even come close to finding him. It left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“I saw him last night,” I said.

Annabeth knit her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

I told her about the Iris-message. When I was done, she stared into the shadows of the woods. “He’s summoning the dead? That’s not good.”

“The ghost was giving him bad advice,” I said. “Telling him to take revenge.”

“Yeah…spirits are never good advisers they’ve got their own agendas. Old grudges. And they resent the living.”

“He’s going to come after me,” I said. “The spirit mentioned a maze.”

She nodded. “That settles it. We have to figure out the Labyrinth.”

“Maybe,” I said uncomfortably. “But who sent the Iris-message? If Nico didn’t know I was there—”

A branch snapped in the woods. Dry leaves rustled. Something large was moving in the trees, just beyond the ridge. 

“You shall rise or fall by the ghost king’s hand,” Annabeth said, “the child of Athena’s final stand.”

Everyone looked around uncomfortably. Annabeth was a daughter of Athena, and a final stand didn’t sound good.

“Hey…we shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Silena said. “Annabeth isn’t the only child of Athena, right?”

“But who’s this ghost king?” Beckendorf asked.

No one answered. I thought about the Iris-message I’d seen of Nico summoning spirits. I had a bad feeling the prophecy was connected to that. 

I probably should’ve gone back to bed. Instead I thought about what I’d seen last night—the weird image of Nico at the banks of the River Styx.

“You’re trying to tell me something,” I said.

No response from the fountain.

“All right,” I said. “Show me Nico di Angelo.”

I didn’t even throw a coin in, but this time it didn’t matter. It was like some other force had control of the water besides Iris the messenger goddess.

The water shimmered. Nico appeared, but he was no longer in the Underworld. He was standing in a graveyard under a starry sky. Giant willow trees loomed all around him. He was watching some gravediggers at work. I heard shovels and saw dirt flying out of a hole. Nico was dressed in a black cloak. The night was foggy. It was warm and humid, and frogs were croaking. A large Wal-Mart bag sat next to Nico’s feet.

“Is it deep enough yet?” Nico asked. He sounded irritated.

“Nearly, my lord.” It was the same ghost I’d seen Nico with before, the faint shimmering image of a man. “But, my lord, I tell you, this is unnecessary. You already have me for advice.” 

“I want a second opinion!” Nico snapped his fingers, and the digging stopped. Two figures climbed out of the hole. They weren’t people. They were skeletons in ragged clothes.

“You are dismissed,” Nico said. “Thank you.”

The skeletons collapsed into piles of bones.

“You might as well thank the shovels,” the ghost complained. “They have as much sense.”

Nico ignored him. He reached into his Wal-Mart bag and pulled out a twelve-pack of Coke. He popped open a can. Instead of drinking it, he poured it into the grave.

“Let the dead taste again,” he murmured. “Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember.”

He dropped the rest of the Cokes into the grave and pulled out a white paper bag decorated with cartoons. I hadn’t seen one in years, but I recognized it—a McDonald’s Happy Meal. He turned it upside down and shook the fries and hamburger into the grave.

“In my day, we used animal blood,” the ghost mumbled. “It’s perfectly good enough. They can’t taste the difference.”

“I will treat them with respect,” Nico said.

“At least let me keep the toy,” the ghost said.

“Be quiet!” Nico ordered. He emptied another twelve-pack of soda and three more Happy Meals into the grave, then began chanting in Ancient Greek. I caught only some of the words—a lot about the dead and memories and returning from the grave. Real happy stuff.

The grave started to bubble. Frothy brown liquid rose to the top like the whole thing was filling with soda. The fog thickened. The frogs stopped croaking. Dozens of figures began to appear among the gravestones: bluish, vaguely human shapes. Nico had summoned the dead with Coke and cheeseburgers.

“There are too many,” the ghost said nervously. “You don’t know your own powers.”

“I’ve got it under control,” Nico said, though his voice sounded fragile.

He drew his sword—a short blade made of solid black metal. I’d never seen anything like it. It wasn’t celestial bronze or steel. Iron, maybe? The crowd of shades retreated at the sight of it.

“One at a time,” Nico commanded.

A single figure floated forward and knelt at the pool. It made slurping sounds as it drank. Its ghostly hands scooped French fries out of the pool. When it stood again, I could see it much more clearly—a teenage guy in Greek armor. He had curly hair and green eyes, a clasp shaped like a seashell on his cloak.

“Who are you?” Nico said. “Speak.”

The young man frowned as if trying to remember. Then he spoke in a voice like dry, crumpling paper: “I am Theseus.”

No way, I thought. This couldn’t be the Theseus. He was just a kid. I’d grown up hearing stories about him fighting the Minotaur and stuff, but I’d always pictured him as this huge, buff guy. The ghost I was looking at wasn’t strong or tall. And he wasn’t any older than I was.

“How can I retrieve my sister?” Nico asked.

Theseus’s eyes were lifeless as glass. “Do not try. It is madness.”

“Just tell me!”

“My stepfather died,” Theseus remembered. “He threw himself into the sea because he thought I was dead in the Labyrinth. I wanted to bring him back, but I could not.”

Nico’s ghost hissed. “My lord, the soul exchange! Ask him about that!”

Theseus scowled. “That voice. I know that voice.”

“No you don’t, fool!” the ghost said. “Answer the lord’s questions and nothing more!”

“I know you,” Theseus insisted, as if struggling to recall.

“I want to hear about my sister,” Nico said. “Will this quest into the Labyrinth help me win her back?”

Theseus was looking for the ghost, but apparently couldn’t see him. Slowly he turned his eyes back on Nico. “The Labyrinth is treacherous. There is only one thing that saw me through: the love of a mortal girl. The string was only part of the answer. It was the princess who guided me.”

“We don’t need any of that,” the ghost said. “I will guide you, my lord. Ask him if it is true about an exchange of souls. He will tell you.”

“A soul for a soul,” Nico asked. “Is it true?”

“I—I must say yes. But the specter—”

“Just answer the questions, knave!” the ghost said.

Suddenly, around the edges of the pool, the other ghosts became restless. They stirred, whispering in nervous tones.

“I want to see my sister!” Nico demanded. “Where is she?”

“He is coming,” Theseus said fearfully. “He has sensed your summons. He comes.”

“Who?” Nico demanded. 

“He comes to find the source of this power,” Theseus said. “You must release us.”

The water in my fountain began to tremble, humming with power. I realized the whole cabin was shaking. The noise grew louder. The image of Nico in the graveyard started to glow until it was painful to watch.

“Stop,” I said out loud. “Stop it!”

The fountain began to crack. Tyson muttered in his sleep and turned over. Purple light threw horrible, ghostly shadows on the cabin walls, as if the specters were escaping right out of the fountain.

In desperation I uncapped riptide and slashed at the fountain, cleaving it in two. Salt water spilled everywhere, and the great stone font crashed to the floor in pieces. Tyson snorted and muttered, but he kept sleeping.

I sank to the ground, shivering from what I’d seen. Tyson found me there in the morning, still staring at the shattered remains of the saltwater fountain. 

I kept my mouth shut, but I felt guilty. I’d made the decision not to tell Chiron about Nico being a son of Hades. The mention of souls, though— What if Kronos knew about Nico? What if he managed to turn him evil? It was almost enough to make me want to tell Chiron, but I didn’t. for one thing, I wasn’t sure Chiron could do anything about it. I had to find Nico myself. I had to explain things to him, make him listen. 

We sat in silence, listening to strange creaks and groans in the maze, the echo of stones grinding together as tunnels changed, grew, and expanded. The dark made me think about the visions I’d seen of Nico di Angelo, and suddenly I realized something.

“Nico is down here somewhere,” I said. “That’s how he disappeared from camp. He found the Labyrinth. Then he found a path that led down even farther—to the Underworld. But now he’s back in the maze. He’s coming after me.”

Annabeth was quiet for a long time. “Percy, I hope you’re wrong. But if you’re right…” she stared at the flashlight beam, casting a dim circle on the stone wall. I had a feeling she was thinking about her prophecy. I’d never seen her look more tired. 

Then I saw something glinting at the edge of the pit—a foil wrapper. I shined my flashlight into the hole and saw a half-chewed cheeseburger floating in brown carbonated muck.

“Nico,” I said. “He was summoning the dead again.”

Tyson whimpered. “Ghosts were here. I don’t like ghosts.”

“We’ve got to find him.” I don’t know why, but standing at the edge of that pit gave me a sense of urgency. Nico was close, I could feel it. I couldn’t let him wander around down here, alone except for the dead. I started to run.

“Percy!” Annabeth called. 

I turned to Annabeth. “Didn’t Hera say something about a ranch? We need to check it out. Nico might be there.”

“Cyclops,” the man finished. “Yes, I can see that.” He glowered at me. “And I know half-bloods because I am one, sonny. I’m Eurytion, the cowherd for this here ranch. Son of Ares. You came through the Labyrinth like the other one, I reckon.”

“The other one?” I asked. “You mean Nico di Angelo?”

“We get a load of visitors from the Labyrinth,” Eurytion said darkly. “Not many ever leave.”

“Wow,” I said. “I feel welcome.”

The cowherd glanced bend him like someone was watching. Then he lowered his voice. “I’m only going to say this once, demigods. Get back in the maze now. Before it’s too late.”

“We’re not leaving,” Annabeth insisted. “Not until we see this other demigod. Please.” 

Before the three-bodied man could respond, Nico di Angelo came out of the glass doors onto the porch. “Geryon, I won’t wait for—”

He froze when he saw us. Then he drew his sword. The blade was just like I’d seen in my dream; short, sharp, and dark as midnight. Geryon snarled when he saw it. “Put that away, Mr. di Angelo. I ain’t gonna have my guests killin’ each other.”

“But that’s—” 

“Percy Jackson,” Geryon supplied. “Annabeth Chase. And a couple of their monster friends. Yes, I know.”

“Monster friends?” Grover said indignantly.

“That man is wearing three shirts,” Tyson said, like he was just realizing this.

“They let my sister die!” Nico’s voice trembled with rage. “They’re here to kill me!”

“Nico, we’re not here to kill you.” I raised my hands. “What happened to Bianca was—”

“Don’t speak her name! You’re not worthy to even talk about her!”

“Wait a minute,” Annabeth pointed at Geryon. “How do you know our names?”

The three-bodied man winked. “I make it my business to keep informed, darlin’. Everybody pops into the ranch from time to time. Everyone needs something from ole Geryon. Now, Mr. di Angelo, put that ugly sword away before I have Eurytion take it form you.”

Eurytion sighed, but he hefted his spiked club. At his feet, Orthus growled.

Nico hesitated. He looked thinner and paler than he had in the Irismessages. I wondered if he’d eaten in the last week. His black clothes were dusty from traveling in the Labyrinth, and his dark eyes were full of hate. He was too young to look so angry. I still remembered him as the cheerful little kid who played with Mythomagic cards.

Reluctantly, he sheathed his sword. “If you come near me, Percy, I’ll summon help. You don’t want to meet my helpers, I promise.”

“I believe you,” I said.

Geryon patted Nico’s shoulder. “There, we’ve all made nice. Now come along, folks. I want to give you a tour of the ranch.”

* * *

Geryon had a trolley thing—like one of those kiddie trains that take you around zoos. It was painted black and white in a cowhide pattern. The driver’s car had a set of longhorns stuck to the hood, and the horn sounded like a cowbell. I figured maybe this was how he tortured people. He embarrassed them to death riding around in the moo-mobile.

Nico sat in the very back, probably so he could keep an eye on us. Eurytion crawled in next to him with his spiked club and pulled his cowboy hat over his eyes like he was going to take a nap. Orthus jumped in the front seat next to Geryon and began barking happily in two-part harmony. Annabeth, Tyson, Grover, and I took the middle two cars. 

Nico sat forward. “I don’t care about any of this, Geryon. We had business to discuss, and this wasn’t it!”

“All in good time, Mr. di Angelo. Look over here; some of my exotic game.” 

Even Nico gagged. “What is that?”

“My stables!” Geryon said. “Well, actually they belong to Aegas, but we watch over them for a small monthly fee. Aren’t they lovely?” 

Nico got out of the back car and stormed over to Geryon. The cowherd Eurytion wasn’t as sleepy as he looked. He hefted his club and walked after Nico.

“I came here for business, Geryon,” Nico said. “And you haven’t answered me.”

“Mmm.” Geryon examined a cactus. His left arm reached over and scratched his middle-chest. “Yes, you’ll get a deal, all right.”

“My ghost told me you could help. He said you could guide us to the soul we need.”

“Wait a second,” I said. “I thought I was the soul you wanted.”

Nico looked at me like I was crazy. “You? Why would I want you? Bianca’s soul is worth a thousand of yours! Now, can you help me, Geryon, or not?”

“Oh, I imagine I could,” the rancher said. “Your ghost friend, by the way, where is he?”

Nico looked uneasy. “He can’t form in broad daylight. It’s hard for him. But he’s around somewhere.”

Geryon smiled. “I’m sure. Minos likes to disappear when things get…difficult.”

“Minos?” I remembered the man I’d seen in my dreams, with the golden crown, the pointed beard, and the cruel eyes. “You mean that evil king? That’s the ghost who’s been giving you advice?”

“It’s none of your business, Percy!” Nico turned back to Geryon. “And what do you mean about things getting difficult?”

The three-bodied man sighed. “Well, you see, Nico—can I call you Nico?” 

“No.”

“You see, Nico, Luke Castellan is offering very good money for halfbloods. Especially powerful half-bloods. And I’m sure when he learns your little secret, who you really are, he’ll pay very, very well indeed.”

Nico drew his sword, but Eurytion knocked it out of his hand. Before I could get up, Orthus pounced on my chest and growled, his faces an inch away from mine.

“I would stay in the car, all of you,” Geryon warned. “Or Orthus will tear Mr. Jackson’s throat out. Now, Eurytion, if you would be so kind, secure Nico.”

The cowherd spit into the grass. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you fool!”

Eurytion looked bored, but he wrapped one huge arm around Nico and lifted him up like a wrestler.

“Pick up the sword, too,” Geryon said with distaste. “There’s nothing I hate worse than Stygian Iron.”

Eurytion picked up the sword, careful not to touch the blade.

“Now,” Geryon said cheerfully, “we’ve had the tour. Let’s go back to the lodge, have some lunch, and send an Iris-message to our friends in the Titan army.”

“You fiend!” Annabeth cried.

Geryon smiled at her. “Don’t worry, my dear. Once I’ve delivered Mr. di Angelo, you and your party can go. I don’t interfere with quests. Besides, I’ve been paid well to give you safe passage, which does not, I’m afraid, include Mr. di Angelo.

“Paid by whom?” Annabeth said. “What do you mean?”

“Never you mind, darlin’. Let’s be off, shall we?”

“Wait!” I said, and Orthus growled. I stayed perfectly still so he wouldn’t tear my throat out. “Geryon, you said you’re a businessman. Make me a deal.”

Geryon narrowed his eyes. “What sort of deal? Do you have gold?”

“I’ve got something better. Barter.”

“But Mr. Jackson, you’ve got nothing.”

“You could have him clean the stables,” Eurytion suggested innocently.

“I’ll do it!” I said. “If I fail, you get all of us. Trade us all to Luke for gold.”

“Assuming the horses don’t eat you,” Geryon observed. 

“Either way, you get my friends,” I said. “But if I succeed, you’ve got to let all of us go, including Nico.”

“No!” Nico screamed. “Don’t do me any favors, Percy. I don’t want your help!”

Geryon chuckled. “Percy Jackson, those stables haven’t been cleaned in a thousand years…though it’s true I might be able to sell more stable space if all that poop was cleared away.”

“So what have you got to lose?”

The rancher hesitated. “All right, I’ll accept your offer, but you have to get it done by sunset. If you fail, your friends get sold, and I get rich.”

“Deal.”

He nodded. “I’m going to take your friends with me, back to the lodge. We’ll wait for you there.”

Eurytion gave me a funny look. It might have been sympathy. He whistled, and the dog jumped off me and onto Annabeth’s lap. She yelped. I knew Tyson and grover would never try anything as long as Annabeth was hostage.

I got out of the car and locked eyes with her.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said quietly.

“I hope so, too.”

Geryon got behind the driver’s wheel. Eurytion hauled Nico into the backseat. 

The deck was set up for a party. Streamers and balloons decorated the railing. Geryon was flipping burgers on a huge barbecue cooker made from an oil drum. Eurytion lounged at a picnic table, picking his fingernails with a knife. The two-headed dog sniffed the ribs and burgers that were frying on the grill. And then I saw my friends: Tyson, Grover, Annabeth, and Nico all tossed in a corner, tied up like rodeo animals, with their ankles and wrists roped together and their mouths gagged. 

“Yay for Percy!” Tyson said.

“Can we tie up this cowherd now?” Nico asked.

“Yeah!” Grover agreed. “And that dog almost killed me!” 

“What about the Titans?” I asked. “Did you Iris-message them about Nico yet?”

“Nope. Geryon was waiting until after the barbecue. They don’t know about him.”

Nico as glaring at me. I wasn’t sure what to do about him. I doubted he would agree to come with us. On the other hand, I couldn’t just let him roam around on his own.

“You could stay here until we’re done with our quest,” I told him. “It would be safe.”

“Safe?” Nico said. “What do you care if I’m safe? You got my sister killed!”

“Nico,” Annabeth said, “that wasn’t Percy’s fault. And Geryon wasn’t lying about Kronos wanting to capture you. If he knew who you were, he’d do anything to get you on his side.”

“I’m not on anyone’s side. And I’m not afraid.”

“You should be,” Annabeth said. “Your sister wouldn’t want—”

“If you cared for my sister, you’d help me bring her back!”

“A soul for a soul?” I said.

“Yes!”

“But if you didn’t want my soul—”

“I’m not explaining anything to you!” He blinked tears out of his eyes. “And I will bring her back.”

“Bianca wouldn’t want to be brought back,” I said. “Not like that.”

“You didn’t know her!” he shouted. “How do you know what she’d want?” 

I stared at the flames in the barbecue pit. I thought about the line in Annabeth’s prophecy: You shall rise or fall by the ghost king’s hand. That had to be Minos, and I had to convince Nico not to listen to him. “Let’s ask Bianca.”

The sky seemed to grow darker all of a sudden.

“I’ve tried,” Nico said miserably. “She won’t answer.”

“Try again. I’ve got a feeling she’ll answer with me here.”

“Why would she?”

“Because she’s been sending me Iris-messages,” I said, suddenly sure of it. “She’s been trying to warn me what you’re up to, so I can protect you.”

Nico shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

“One way to find out. You said you’re not afraid.” I turned to Eurytion.

“We’re going to need a pit, like a grave. And food and drinks.”

“Percy,” Annabeth warned. “I don’t think this is a good—”

“All right,” Nico said. “I’ll try.”

Eurytion scratched his beard. “There’s a hole dug out back for a septic tank. We could use that. Cyclops boy, fetch my ice chest from the kitchen. I hope the dead like root beer.” 

The moon was full. Silver clouds drifted across the sky.

“Minos should be here by now,” Nico said, frowning. “It’s full dark.”

“Maybe he got lost,” I said hopefully.

Nico poured root beer and tossed barbecue into the pit, then began chanting in Ancient Greek. Immediately the bugs in the woods stopped chirping. In my pocket, the Stygian ice dog whistle started to grow colder, freezing against the side of my leg.

“Make him stop,” Tyson whispered to me.

Part of me agreed. This was unnatural. The night air felt cold and menacing. But before I could say anything, the first spirits appeared. Sulfurous mist seeped out of the ground. Shadows thickened into human forms. One blue shade drifted to the edge of the pit and knelt to drink.

“Stop him!” Nico said, momentarily breaking his chant. “Only Bianca may drink!”

I drew Riptide. The ghosts retreated with a collective hiss at the sight of my celestial bronze blade. But it was too late to stop the first spirit. He had already solidified into the shape of a bearded man in white robes. A circlet of gold wreathed his head, and even in death his eyes were alive with malice.

“Minos!” Nico said. “What are you doing?”

“My apologies, master,” the ghost said, though he didn’t sound very sorry. “The sacrifice smelled so good, I couldn’t resist.” He examined his own hands and smiled. “It is good to see myself again. Almost in solid form—”

“You are disrupting the ritual!” Nico protested. “Get—”

The spirits of the dead began shimmering dangerously bright, and Nico had to take up the chant again to keep them at bay.

“Yes, quite right, master,” Minos said with amusement. “You keep chanting. I’ve only come to protect you from these liars who would deceive you.” He turned to me as if I were some kind of cockroach. “Percy Jackson…my, my. The sons of Poseidon haven’t improved over the centuries, have they?”

I wanted to punch him, but I figured my fist would go right through his face. “We’re looking for Bianca di Angelo,” I said. “Get lost.”

The ghost chuckled. “I understand you once killed my Minotaur with your bare hands. But worse things await you in the maze. Do you really believe Daedalus will help you?”

The other spirits stirred in agitation. Annabeth drew her knife and helped me keep them away from the pit. Grover got so nervous he clung to Tyson’s shoulder.

“Daedalus cares nothing for you, half-bloods,” Minos warned. “You can’t trust him. He is old beyond counting, and crafty. He is bitter from the guilt of murder and is cursed by the gods.”

“The guilt of murder?” I asked. “Who did he kill?”

“Do not changed the subject!” the ghost growled. “You are hindering Nico. You try to persuade him to give up on his goal. I would make him a lord!”

“Enough, Mions,” Nico commanded.

The ghost sneered. “Master, these are your enemies. You must not listen to them! Let me protect you. i will turn their minds to madness, as I did the others.”

“The others?” Annabeth gasped. “You mean Chris Rodriguez? That was you?”

“The maze is my property,” the ghost said, “not Daedalus’s! Those who intrude deserve madness.”

“Be gone, Minos!” Nico demanded. “I want to see my sister!”

The ghost bit back his rage. “As you wish, master. But I warn you. You cannot trust these heroes.”

With that, he faded into mist.

Other spirits rushed forward, but Annabeth and I kept them back.

“Bianca, appear!” Nico intoned. He started chanting faster, and the spirits shifted restlessly.

“Any time now,” Grover muttered.

Then a silvery light flickered in the trees—a spirit that seemed brighter and stronger than the others. It came closer, and something told me to let it pass. It knelt to drink at the pit. When it arose, it was the ghostly form of Bianca di Angelo.

Nico’s chanting faltered. I lowered my sword. The other spirits started to crowd forward, but Bianca raised her arms and they retreated into the woods.

“Hello, Percy,” she said.

She looked the same as she had in life: a green cap set sideways on her thick black hair, dark eyes and olive skin like her brother. She wore jeans and a silvery jacket, the outfit of a Hunter of Artemis. A bow was slung over her shoulder. She smiled faintly, and her whole form flickered.

“Bianca,” I said. My voice was thick. I’d felt guilty about her death for a long time, but seeing her in front of me was five times as bad, like her death was fresh and new. I remembered searching through the wreckage of the giant bronze warrior she’d sacrificed her life to defeat, and not finding any sign of her.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Percy. I made my own choice. I don’t regret it.”

“Bianca!” Nico stumbled forward like he was just coming out of a daze.

She turned toward her brother. Her expression was sad, as if she’d been dreading this moment. “Hello, Nico. You’ve gotten so tall.”

“Why didn’t you answer me sooner?” he cried. “I’ve been trying for months!”

“I was hoping you would give up.”

“Give up?” He sounded heartbroken. “How can you say that? I’m trying to save you!”

“You can’t, Nico. Don’t do this. Percy is right.”

“No! He let you die! He’s not your friend.”

Bianca stretched out a hand as if to touch her brother’s face, but she was made of mist. Her hand evaporated as it got close to living skin.

“You must listen to me,” she said. “Holding a grudge is dangerous for a child of Hades. It is our fatal flaw. You have to forgive. You have to promise me this.”

“I can’t. Never.”

“Percy has been worried about you, Nico. He can help. I let him see what you were up to, hoping he would find you.”

“So it was you,” I said. “You sent those Iris-messages.”

Bianca nodded.

“Why are you helping him and not me?” Nico screamed. “It’s not fair!” 

“You are close to the truth now,” Bianca told him. “It’s not Percy you’re mad at, Nico. It’s me.”

“No.”

“You’re mad because I left you to become a Hunter of Artemis. You’re mad because I died and left you alone. I’m sorry for that, Nico. I truly am. But you must overcome the anger. And stop blaming Percy for my choices. It will be your doom.”

“She’s right,” Annabeth broke in. “Kronos is rising, Nico. He’ll twist anyone he can to his cause.”

“I don’t care about Kronos,” Nico said. “I just want my sister back.”

“You can’t have that, Nico,” Bianca told him gently.

“I’m the son of Hades! I can.”

“Don’t try,” she said. “If you love me, don’t…”

Her voice trailed off. Spirits had started to gather around us again, and they seemed agitated. Their shadows shifted. Their voices whispered, Danger!

“Tartarus stirs,” Bianca said. “Your power draws the attention of Kronos. The dead must return to the Underworld. It is not safe for us to remain.”

“Wait,” Nico said. “Please—”

“Good-bye, Nico,” Bianca said. “I love you. Remember what I said.”

Her form shivered and the ghosts disappeared, leaving us alone with a pit, a Happy Flush septic tank, and a cold full moon. 

A smiling boy about Nico’s age came bounding up the steps, carrying a wooden box. 

The next morning we walked down to the cattle guard and said our goodbyes.

“Nico, you could come with us,” I blurted out. I guess I was thinking about my dream, and how much the young boy Perdix reminded me of Nico.

He shook his head. I don’t think any of us had slept well in the demon ranch house, but Nico looked worse than anybody else. His eyes were red and his face chalky. He was wrapped in a black robe that must’ve belonged to Geryon, because it was three sizes too big even for a grown man.

“I need time to think.” His eyes wouldn’t meet mine, but I could tell from his tone he was still angry. The fact that his sister had come out of the Underworld for me and not for him didn’t seem to sit well with him.

“Nico,” Annabeth said. “Bianca just wants you to be okay.”

She put her hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away and trudged up the road toward the ranch house. Maybe it was my imagination, but the morning mist seemed to cling to him as he walked.

“I’m worried about him,” Annabeth told me. “If he starts talking to Minos’s ghost again—”

“He’ll be al right,” Eurytion promised. The cowherd had cleaned up nicely. He was wearing new jeans and a clean Western shirt and he’d even trimmed his beard. He’d put on Geryon’s boots. “The boy can stay here and gather his thoughts as long as he wants. He’ll be safe, I promise.”

“What about you?” I asked.

Eurytion scratched Orthus behind one chin, then the other. “Things are going to be run a little different on this ranch from now on. No more sacred cattle meat. I’m thinking about soybean patties. And I’m going to befriend those flesh-eating horses. Might just sign up for the next rodeo.” 

“Eurytion! Is something wrong with Nico?”

“He left the ranch last night, heading back into the maze.”

“Nico was gone before he woke up. Orthus tracked his scent as far as the cattle guard. Eurytion said he’d been hearing Nico talk to himself the last few nights. Only now he thinks Nico was talking with the ghost again, Minos.”

“He’s in danger,” I said.

“No kidding. Minos is one of the judges of the dead, but he’s got a vicious streak a mile wide. I don’t know what he wants with Nico, but—”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “I had this dream last night…” I told her about Luke, how he’d mentioned Quintus, and how his men had found a half-blood alone in the maze. 

“You must be the half-blood from my dream,” I said. “The one Luke’s people cornered. It wasn’t Nico after all.”

“Who’s Nico?”

“Never mind,” Annabeth said quickly. “Why were you trying to join up with the wrong side?” 

The doors of the workshop burst open, and Nico was pushed inside, his hands in chains. Then Kelli and two Laistrygonians marched in behind him, followed by the ghost of Minos. He looked almost solid now—a pale bearded king with cold eyes and tendrils of Mist coiling off his robes.

He fixed his gaze on Daedalus. “There you are, my old friend.”

Daedalus’s jaw clenched. He looked at Kelli. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Luke sends his compliments,” Kelli said. “He thought you might like to see your old employer Minos.”

“This was not part of our agreement,” Daedalus said.

“No indeed,” Kelli said. “But we already have what we want from you, and we have other agreements to honor. Minos required something else from us, in order to turn over this fine young demigod.” She ran a finger under Nico’s chin. “He’ll be quite useful. And all Minos asked in return was your head, old man.”

Daedalus paled. “Treachery.”

“Get used to it,” Kelli said.

“Nico,” I said. “Are you okay?”

He nodded morosely. “I—I’m sorry, Percy. Minos told me you were in danger. He convinced me to go back into the maze.”

“You were trying to help us?”

“I was tricked,” he said. “He tricked all of us.”

I glared at Kelli. “Where’s Luke? Why isn’t he here?”

The she-demon smiled like we were sharing a private joke. “Luke is…busy. He is preparing for the assault. But don’t worry. We have more friends on the way. And in the meantime, I think I’ll have a wonderful snack!” Her hands changed into claws. Her hair burst into flame and her legs turned to their true form—one donkey leg, one bronze.

“Percy,” Rachel whispered, “the wings. Do you think—”

“Get them,” I said. “I’ll try to buy you some time.”

And with that, all Hades broke loose. Annabeth and I charged at Kelli. The giants came right at Daedalus, but Mrs. O’Leary leaped to his defense. Nico got pushed to the ground and struggled with his chains while the spirit of Minos wailed, “Kill the inventor! Kill him!”

Rachel grabbed the wings off the wall. Nobody paid her any attention. Kelli slashed at Annabeth. I tried to get to her, but the demon was quick and deadly. She turned over tables, smashed inventions, and wouldn’t let us get close. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. O’Leary chomp her fangs into a giant’s arm. He wailed in pain and flung her around, trying to shake her.

Daedalus grabbed for his sword, but the second giant smashed the workbench with his fist, and the sword went flying. A clay jar of Greek fire broke on the floor and began to burn, green flames spreading quickly.

“To me!” Minos cried. “Spirits of the dead!” He raised his ghostly hands and the air began to hum.

“No!” Nico cried. He was on his feet now. He’d somehow managed to remove his shackles.

“You do not control me, young fool,” Minos sneered. “All this time, I have been controlling you! A soul for a soul, yes. But it is not your sister who will return from the dead. It is I, as soon as I slay the inventor!”

Spirits began to appear around Minos—shimmering forms that slowly multiplied, solidifying into Cretan soldiers.

“I am the son of Hades,” Nico insisted. “Be gone!”

Minos laughed. “You have no power over me. I am the lord of spirits! The ghost king!”

“No.” Nico drew his sword. “I am.”

He stabbed his black blade into the floor, and it cleaved through the stone like butter.

“Never!” Minos’s form rippled. “I will not—”

The ground rumbled. The windows cracked and shattered to pieces, letting in a blast of fresh air. A fissure opened in the stone floor of the workshop, and Minos and all his spirits were sucked into the void with a horrible wail. 

In seconds, Nico, Annabeth, Rachel, and I had fitted ourselves with coppery wings. Already I could feel myself being lifted by the wind coming through the window. Greek fire was burning the tables and furniture, spreading up the circular stairs.

“Daedalus!” I yelled. “Come on!”

He was cut in a hundred places—but he was bleeding golden oil instead of blood. He’d found his sword and was using part of a smashed table as a shield against the giants. “I won’t leave Mrs. O’Leary!” he said. “Go!”

There was no time to argue. Even if we stayed, I wasn’t sure we could help.

“None of us know how to fly!” Nico protested.

“Great time to find out,” I said. And together, the four of us jumped out the window into open sky.

I turned and saw my friends—Rachel, Annabeth, and Nico—spiraling above me, glinting in the sunlight. Behind them, smoke billowed from the windows of Daedalus’s workshop. 

“No,” Nico said. “He isn’t dead.”

“How can you be sure?” I asked.

“I know when people die. It’s this feeling I get, like a buzzing in my ears.”

“What about Tyson and Grover, then?”

Nico shook his head. “That’s harder. They’re not humans or half-bloods. They don’t have mortal souls.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Nico said. “I’m hungry.” 

Rachel came back to get me just as Nico and Annabeth appeared from the gift shop. 

To my surprise, Rachel and Annabeth started up a conversation as we walked. Annabeth asked her more about her background, but Rachel was evasive, so they started talking about architecture. It turned out that Rachel knew something about it from studying art. They talked about different facades on buildings around New York—“Have you seen this one,” blah, blah, blah, so I hung back and walked next to Nico in uncomfortable silence.

“Thanks for coming after us,” I told him at last.

Nico’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t seem as angry as he used to—just suspicious, careful. “I owed you for the ranch, Percy. Plus…I wanted to see Daedalus for myself. Minos was right, in a way. Daedalus should die. Nobody should be able to avoid death that long. It’s not natural.”

“That’s what you were after all along,” I said. “Trading Daedalus’s soul for your sister’s.”

Nico walked for another fifty yards before answering. “It hasn’t been easy, you know. Having only the dead for company. Knowing that I’ll never be accepted by the living. Only the dead respect me, and they only do that out of fear.”

“You could be accepted,” I said. “You could have friends at camp.”

He stared at me. “Do you really believe that, Percy?”

I didn’t answer. The truth was, I didn’t know. Nico had always been a little different, but since Bianca’s death, he’d gotten almost…scary. He had his father’s eyes—that intense, manic fire that made you suspect he was either a genius or a madman. And the way he’d banished Minos, and called himself the king of ghosts—it was kind of impressive, but it made me uncomfortable too.

Before I could figure out what to tell him, I ran into Rachel, who’d stopped in front of me. We’d come to a crossroads. The tunnel continued straight ahead, but a side tunnel T’d off to the right—a circular shaft carved from volcanic rock.

“What is it?” I asked.

Rachel stared down the dark tunnel. In the dim flashlight beam, her face looked like one of Nico’s specters. 

“Is it that way?” Annabeth asked.

“No,” Rachel said nervously. “Not at all.”

“Why are we stopping then?” I asked. 

“Listen,” Nico said.

I heard wind coming down the tunnel, as if the exit were close. And I smelled something vaguely familiar—something that brought back bad memories.

“Eucalyptus trees,” I said. “Like in California.”

Last winter, when we’d faced Luke and the Titan Atlas on top of Mount Tamalpais, the air had smelled like that.

“There’s something evil down that tunnel,” Rachel said. “Something very powerful.”

“And the smell of death,” Nico added, which made me feel a whole lot better. 

Annabeth and I exchanged glances.

“Luke’s entrance,” she guessed. “The one to Mount Othrys—the Titans’ palace.”

“I have to check it out,” I said.

“Percy, no.”

“Luke could be right here,” I said. “Or…or Kronos. I have to find out what’s going on.”

Annabeth hesitated. “Then we’ll all go.”

“No,” I said. “It’s too dangerous. If they got hold of Nico, or Rachel for that matter, Kronos could use them. You stay here and guard them.”

“Ow!” he yelled. For a moment it was only Luke’s voice, full of surprise and pain. My limbs were freed and I ran straight into Rachel, Nico, and Annabeth, who were standing in the entry hall, their eyes filled with dismay.

“Luke?” Annabeth called. “What—”

I grabbed her by the shirt and hauled her after me. I ran as fast as I’ve ever run, straight out of the fortress. We were almost back to the Labyrinth entrance when I heard the loudest bellow in the world—the voice of Kronos, coming back into control. “AFTER THEM!”

“No!” Nico yelled. He clapped his hands together, and a jagged spire of rock the size of an eighteen-wheeler erupted from the ground right in front of the fortress. The tremor it caused was so powerful the front columns of the building came crashing down. I heard muffled screams from the telekhines inside. Dust billowed everywhere.

We plunged into the Labyrinth and kept running, the howl of the Titan lord shaking the entire world behind us.

Annabeth had been crying the entire time we’d been running. Now she collapsed and put her head between her knees. Her sobs echoed in the tunnel. Nico and I sat next to each other. He dropped his sword next to mine and took a shaky breath.

“That sucked,” he said, which I thought summed things up pretty well.

“You saved our lives,” I said.

Nico wiped the dust off his face. “Blame the girls for dragging me along. That’s the only thing they could agree on. We needed to help you or you’d mess things up.”

“Nice that they trust me so much,” I shined my flashlight across the cavern. Water dripped from the stalactites like a slow-motion rain. “Nico…you, uh, kind of gave yourself away.”

“What do you mean?”

“That wall of black stone? That was pretty impressive. If Kronos didn’t know who you were before, he does now—a child of the Underworld.”

Nico frowned. “Big deal.”

I let it drop. I figured he was just trying to hide how scared he was, and I couldn’t blame him. 

“We have to keep moving,” Nico said. “He’ll send monsters after us.”

Nobody was in any shape to run, but Nico was right. I hauled myself up and helped Rachel to her feet. 

“What about Camp Half-Blood?” Nico said. “There’s no time.” 

Grover whimpered with excitement. I was too stunned to talk. Even Nico seemed speechless. We stepped into the cave, and Rachel said, “Oh, wow.” 

“Dear Grover,” Pan said. “You must accept the truth. Your companion, Nico, he understands.”

Nico nodded slowly. “He’s dying. He should have died long ago. This…this is more like a memory.”

“But gods can’t die,” Grover said. 

When I got back to the horses. Nico was having trouble. His Pegasus kept shying away from him, reluctant to let him mount.

 _He smells like dead people!_ The Pegasus complained.

 _Hey now,_ Blackjack said. _Come on, Porkpie. Lotsa demigods smell weird. It ain’t their fault. Oh—uh, I didn’t mean you, boss._

“Go without me!” Nico said. “I don’t want to go back to that camp anyway.” 

“Nico,” I said, “we need your help.”

He folded his arms and scowled. Then Annabeth put her hand on his shoulder.

“Nico,” she said. “Please.”

Slowly, his expression softened. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “For you. but I’m not staying.”

I raised an eyebrow at Annabeth, like, _How come all of a sudden Nico listens to you?_ She stuck her tongue out at me.

At last we got everybody on a Pegasus. We shot into the air, and soon we were over the East river with Long Island spread out before us. 

We landed in the middle of the cabin area and were immediately met by Chiron, the potbellied satyr Silenus, and a couple of Apollo cabin archers. Chiron raised an eyebrow when he saw Nico, but if I expected him to be surprised by our latest news about Quintus being Daedalus, or Kronos rising, I was mistaken. 

“I do not think so, my boy. I would sense if he were drawing near. No doubt he planned to, but I believe you inconvenienced him when you pulled down his throne room on top of him.” He looked at me reproachfully. “You and your friend Nico, son of Hades.”

A lump formed in my throat. “I’m sorry, Chiron. I know I should’ve told you. It’s just—”

Chiron raised his hand. “I understand why you did it, Percy. You felt responsible. You sought to protect him. But, my boy, if we are to survive this war, we must trust each other. We must…”

The only person anywhere near was Nico di Angelo. He stabbed a telekhine, and his black Stygian blade absorbed the monster’s essence, drinking its energy until there was nothing left but dust.

“Nico!” I yelled.

He looked where I was pointing, saw the serpent women, and immediately understood.

He took a deep breath and held out his black sword. “Serve me,” he called. The earth trembled. A fissure opened in front of the dracaenae, and a dozen undead warriors crawled from the earth—horrible corpses in military uniforms from all different time periods—U.S. Revolutionaries, Roman centurions, Napoleonic cavalry on skeletal horses. As one, they drew their swords and engaged the dracaenae. Nico crumpled to his knees, but I didn’t have time to make sure he was okay. 

Before she could say more, Tyson called, “Percy, come quick! It is Nico!”

* * *

There was smoke curling off his black clothes. His fingers were clenched, and the grass all around his body had turned yellow and died. I rolled him over as gently as I could and put my against his chest. His heart was beating faintly. “Get some nectar!” I yelled.

One of the Ares campers hobbled over and handed me a canteen. I trickled some of the magic drink into Nico’s mouth. He coughed and spluttered, but his eyelids fluttered open.

“Nico, what happened?” I asked. “Can you talk?”

He nodded weakly. “Never tried to summon so many before. I—I’ll be fine.”

We helped him sit up and gave him some more nectar. He blinked at all of us, like he was trying to remember who we were, and then he focused on someone behind me.

“Daedalus,” he croaked.

“Yes, my boy,” the inventor said. “I made a very bad mistake. I came to correct it.” 

“I will take what comes,” he said. “And trust in the justice of the Underworld, such as it is. That is all we can do, isn’t it?” He looked straight at Nico, and Nico’s face darkened.

“Yes,” he said.

“Will you take my soul for ransom, then?” Daedalus asked. “You could use it to reclaim your sister.”

“No,” Nico said. “I will help you release your spirit. But Bianca has passed. She must stay where she is.”

Daedalus nodded. “Well done, son of Hades. You are becoming wise.” Then he turned toward me. “One last favor, Percy Jackson. I cannot leave Mrs. O’Leary alone. And she has no desire to return to the Underworld. Will you care for her?” 

I looked at the massive black hound, who whimpered pitifully, still licking Daedalus’s hair. I was thinking that my mom’s apartment wouldn’t allow dogs, especially dogs bigger than the apartment, but I said, “Yeah. Of course I will.”

“Then I am ready to see my son…and Perdix,” he said. “I must tell them how sorry I am.”

Annabeth had tears in her eyes.

Daedalus turned toward Nico, who drew his sword. At first I was afraid Nico would kill the old inventor, but he simply said, “Your time is long since come. Be released and rest.”

The only thing that bothered me was Nico, hanging in the shadows at the edge of the pavilion. He’d been offered a place at the Hermes table, and even at the head table with Chiron, but he had refused. 

After dinner, the campers headed toward the amphitheater, where Apollo’s cabin promised an awesome sing-along to pick up our spirits, but Nico turned and disappeared into the woods. I decided I’d better follow him.

As I passed under the shadows of the trees, I realized how dark it was getting. I’d never been scared in the forest before, though I knew there were plenty of monsters. Still, I thought about yesterday’s battle, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to walk in those woods again without remembering the horror of so much fighting.

I couldn’t see Nico, but after a few minutes of walking I saw a glow up ahead. At first I thought Nico had lit a torch. As I got closer, I realized the glow was a ghost. The shimmering form of Bianca di Angelo stood in the clearing, smiling at her brother. She said something to him and touched his face—or tried to. Then her image faded.

Nico turned and saw me, but he didn’t look mad.

“Saying good-bye,” he said hoarsely.

“We missed you at dinner,” I said. “You could’ve sat with me.”

“No.”

“Nico, you can’t miss every meal. If you don’t want to stay with Hermes, maybe they can make an exception and put you in the Big House. They’ve got plenty of rooms.”

“I’m not staying, Percy.”

“But…you can’t just leave. It’s too dangerous out there for a lone halfblood. You need to train.”

“I train with the dead,” he said flatly. “This camp isn’t for me. There’s a reason they didn’t put a cabin to Hades here, Percy. He’s not welcome, any more than he is on Olympus. I don’t belong. I have to go.”

I wanted to argue, but part of me knew he was right. I didn’t like it, but Nico would have to find his own, dark way. I remembered in Pan’s cave, how the wild god had addressed each one of us individually…except Nico.”

“When will you go?” I asked.

“Right away. I’ve got tons of questions. Like who was my mother? Who paid for Bianca and me to go to school? Who was that lawyer guy who got us out of the Lotus Hotel? I know nothing about my past. I need to find out.”

“Makes sense,” I admitted. “But I hope we don’t have to be enemies.”

He lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry I was a brat. I should’ve listened to you about Bianca.”

“By the way…” I fished something out of my pocket. “Tyson found this while we were cleaning the cabin. Thought you might want it.” I held out a lead figurine of Hades—the little Mythomagic statue Nico had abandoned when he fled camp last winter.

Nico hesitated. “I don’t play that game anymore. It’s for kids.”

“It’s got four thousand attack power,” I coaxed.

“Five thousand,” Nico corrected. “But only if your opponent attacks first.”

I smiled. “Maybe it’s okay to still be a kid once in a while.” I tossed him the statue.

Nico studied it in his palm for a few seconds, then slipped it into his pocket. “Thanks.”

I put out my hand. He shook reluctantly. His hand was as cold as ice.

“I’ve got a lot of things to investigate,” he said. “Some of them…Well, if I learn anything useful, I’ll let you know.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I nodded. “Keep in touch, Nico.”

He turned and trudged off into the woods. The shadows seemed to bend toward him as he walked, like they were reaching out for his attention.

A voice right behind me said, “There goes a very troubled young man.”

I turned and found Dionysus standing there, still in his black suit.

“ _You shall rise or fall by the ghost king’s hand_ ,” I pressed on. “That wasn’t Minos, like I’d thought. It was Nico. By choosing to be on our side, he saved us. _And the child of Athena’s final stand_ —that was Daedalus.” 

Then, as I watched, a tiny silver plant sprang out of the soil—a baby moonlace, growing in the warm summer night.

“Nice plant,” a voice said.

I jumped. Nico di Angelo was standing on the fire escape right next to me. He’d just appeared there.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s—that’s okay. I mean…what are you doing here?”

He’d grown about an inch taller over the last couple of months. His hair was a shaggy black mess. He wore a black T-shirt, black jeans, and a new silver ring shaped like a skull. His Stygian iron sword hung at his side.

“I’ve done some exploring,” he said. “Thought you’d like to know, Daedalus got his punishment.”

“You saw him?”

Nico nodded. “Minos wanted to boil him in cheese fondue for an eternity, but my father had other ideas. Daedalus will be building overpasses and exit ramps in Asphodel for all time. It’ll help ease the traffic congestion. Truthfully, I think the old guy is pretty happy with that. He’s still building. Still creating. And he gets to see his son and Perdix on the weekends.”

“That’s good.”

Nico tapped at his silver ring. “But that’s not the real reason I’ve come. I’ve found out some things. I want to make you an offer.”

“What?”

“The way to beat Luke,” he said. “If I’m right, it’s the only way you’ll stand a chance.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Nico glanced inside my room. His eyebrows furrowed. “Is that…is that blue birthday cake?”

He sounded hungry, maybe a little wistful. I wondered if the poor kid had ever had a birthday party, or if he’d ever even been invited to one.

“Come inside for some cake and ice cream,” I said. “It sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about.” 


	3. The Last Olympian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for liking this, even though I've only been doing it for two days.
> 
> I must admit, I did enjoy the mental image of the Lord of the Dead covering his ears like a small child while a tiny, gay, Italian twelve-year-old shouts at him

The scene shifted. Now I was outside the pavilion, hiding in the shadows of a Greek column. A boy stood next to me, eavesdropping on the Titans. He had dark silky hair, pale skin, and dark clothes—my friend Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades.

He looked straight at me, his expression grim. "You see, Percy?" he whispered. "You're running out of time. Do you really think you can beat them without my plan?"

His words washed over me as cold as the ocean floor, and my dreams went black. 

I thought about my dream: the Titans discussing the explosion as if it didn't matter, Nico di Angelo warning me that I would never beat Kronos without following his plan—a dangerous idea I'd been avoiding for more than a year. 

Chiron put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sure you did everything you could, Percy. Will you tell us what happened?"

I didn't want to go through it again, but I told them the story, including my dream about the Titans. I left out the detail about Nico. Nico had made me promise not to tell anybody about his plan until I made up my mind, and the plan was so scary I didn't mind keeping it a secret. 

I ate a depressing breakfast by myself at the Poseidon table. I kept staring at the fissure in the marble floor where two years ago Nico had banished a bunch of bloodthirsty skeletons to the Underworld. The memory didn't exactly improve my appetite. 

When I finally tracked her down, she wasn't using the facilities. She was in a familiar clearing where the Council of Cloven Elders had once put Grover on trial. The place didn't look so good. The grass had turned yellow. The three topiary thrones had lost all their leaves. But that's not what surprised me. In the middle of the glade stood the weirdest trio I'd ever seen: Juniper the tree nymph, Nico di Angelo, and a very old, very fat satyr.

Nico was the only one who didn't seem freaked out by Mrs. O'Leary's appearance. He looked pretty much like I'd seen him in my dream—an aviator's jacket, black jeans, and a T-shirt with dancing skeletons on it, like one of those Day of the Dead pictures. His Stygian iron sword hung at his side. He was only twelve, but he looked much older and sadder.

He nodded when he saw me, then went back to scratching Mrs. O'Leary's ears. She sniffed his legs like he was the most interesting thing since rib-eye steaks. Being the son of Hades, he'd probably been traveling in all sorts of hellhound-friendly places.

The old satyr didn't look nearly so happy. "Will someone—what is this underworld creature doing in my forest!" He waved his arms and trotted on his hooves as if the grass were hot. "You there, Percy Jackson! Is this your beast?"

"Sorry, Leneus," I said. "That's your name, right?"

The satyr rolled his eyes. His fur was dust-bunny gray, and a spiderweb grew between his horns. His belly would've made him an invincible bumper car. "Well, of course I'm Leneus. Don't tell me you've forgotten a member of the Council so quickly. Now, call off your beast!"

"WOOF!" Mrs. O'Leary said happily.

The old satyr gulped. "Make it go away! Juniper, I will not help you under these circumstances!"

Juniper turned toward me. She was pretty in a dryad-y way, with her purple gossamer dress and her elfish face, but her eyes were green-tinted with chlorophyll from crying. 

"Percy," she sniffled. "I was just asking about Grover. I know something's happened. He wouldn't stay gone this long if he wasn't in trouble. I was hoping that Leneus—"

"I told you!" the satyr protested. "You are better off without that traitor."

Juniper stamped her foot. "He is not a traitor! He's the bravest satyr ever, and I want to know where he is!"

"WOOF!"

Leneus's knees started knocking. "I . . . I won't answer questions with this hellhound sniffing my tail!"

Nico looked like he was trying to not crack up. "I'll walk the dog," he volunteered. He whistled, and Mrs. O'Leary bounded after him to the far end of the grove. 

Nico walked back to us. "Good job, Percy. Judging from the trail of goat pellets, I'd say you shook him up pretty well."

I was afraid I knew why Nico was here, but I tried for a smile. "Welcome back. Did you come by just to see Juniper?"

He blushed. "Um, no. That was an accident. I kind of . . . dropped into the middle of their conversation."

"He scared us to death!" Juniper said. "Right out of the shadows. But, Nico, you are the son of Hades and all. Are you sure you haven't heard anything about Grover?"

Nico shifted his weight. "Juniper, like I tried to tell you . . . even if Grover died, he would reincarnate into something else in nature. I can't sense things like that, only mortal souls."

"But if you do hear anything?" she pleaded, putting her hand on his arm. "Anything at all?"

Nico's cheeks got even brighter red. "Uh, you bet. I'll keep my ears open."

"We'll find him, Juniper," I promised. "Grover's alive, I'm sure. There must be a simple reason why he hasn't contacted us."

She nodded glumly. "I hate not being able to leave the forest. He could be anywhere, and I'm stuck here waiting. Oh, if that silly goat has gotten himself hurt—"

Mrs. O'Leary bounded back over and took an interest in Juniper's dress.

Juniper yelped. "Oh, no you don't! I know about dogs and trees. I'm gone!"

She went poof into green mist. Mrs. O'Leary looked disappointed, but she lumbered off to find another target, leaving Nico and me alone.

Nico tapped his sword on the ground. A tiny mound of animal bones erupted from the dirt. They knit themselves together into a skeletal field mouse and scampered off. "I was sorry to hear about Beckendorf."

A lump formed in my throat. "How did you—" 

"I talked to his ghost."

"Oh . . . right." I'd never get used to the fact that this twelve-year-old kid spent more time talking with the dead than the living. "Did he say anything?"

"He doesn't blame you. He figured you'd be beating yourself up, and he said you shouldn't."

"Is he going to try for rebirth?"

Nico shook his head. "He's staying in Elysium. Said he's waiting for someone. Not sure what he meant, but he seems okay with death."

It wasn't much comfort, but it was something.

"I had a vision you were on Mount Tarn," I told Nico. "Was that—"

"Real," he said. "I didn't mean to be spying on the Titans, but I was in the neighborhood."

"Doing what?"

Nico tugged at his sword belt. "Following a lead on . . . you know, my family."

I nodded. I knew his past was a painful subject. Until two years ago, he and his sister Bianca had been frozen in time at a place called the Lotus Hotel and Casino. They'd been there for like seventy years. Eventually a mysterious lawyer rescued them and checked them into a boarding school, but Nico had no memories of his life before the casino. He didn't know anything about his mother. He didn't know who the lawyer was, or why they'd been frozen in time or allowed to go free. After Bianca died and left Nico alone, he'd been obsessed with finding answers.

"So how did it go?" I asked. "Any luck?"

"No," he murmured. "But I may have a new lead soon."

"What's the lead?"

Nico chewed his lip. "That's not important right now. You know why I'm here."

A feeling of dread started to build in my chest. Ever since Nico first proposed his plan for beating Kronos last summer, I'd had nightmares about it. He would show up occasionally and press me for an answer, but I kept putting him off.

"Nico, I don't know," I said. "It seems pretty extreme."

"You've got Typhon coming in, what . . . a week? Most of the other Titans are unleashed now and on Kronos's side. Maybe it's time to think extreme."

I looked back toward the camp. Even from this distance I could hear the Ares and Apollo campers fighting again, yelling curses and spouting bad poetry.

"They're no match for the Titan army," Nico said. "You know that. This comes down to you and Luke. And there's only one way you can beat Luke."

I remembered the fight on the Princess Andromeda. I'd been hopelessly outmatched. Kronos had almost killed me with a single cut to my arm, and I couldn't even wound him. Riptide had glanced right off his skin.

"We can give you the same power," Nico urged. "You heard the Great Prophecy. Unless you want to have your soul reaped by a cursed blade . . ."

I wondered how Nico had heard the prophecy— probably from some ghost.

"You can't prevent a prophecy," I said.

"But you can fight it." Nico had a strange, hungry light m his eyes. "You can become invincible."

"Maybe we should wait. Try to fight without—"

"No!" Nico snarled. "It has to be now!"

I stared at him. I hadn't seen his temper flare like that in a long time. "Urn, you sure you're okay?"

He took a deep breath. "Percy, all I mean . . . when the fighting starts, we won't be able to make the journey. This is our last chance. I'm sorry if I'm being too pushy, but two years ago my sister gave her life to protect you. I want you to honor that. Do whatever it takes to stay alive and defeat Kronos."

I didn't like the idea. Then I thought about Annabeth calling me a coward, and I got angry. Nico had a point. If Kronos attacked New York, the campers would be no match for his forces. I had to do something. Nico's way was dangerous—maybe even deadly. But it might give me a fighting edge.

"All right," I decided. "What do we do first?"

His cold creepy smile made me sorry I'd agreed. "First we'll need to retrace Luke's steps. We need to know more about his past, his childhood."

I shuddered, thinking about Rachel's picture from my dream—a smiling nine-year-old Luke. "Why do we need to know about that?"

"I'll explain when we get there," Nico said. "I've already tracked down his mother. She lives in Connecticut."

I stared at him. I'd never thought much about Luke's mortal parent. I'd met his dad, Hermes, but his mom . . .

"Luke ran away when he was really young," I said. "I didn't think his mom was alive."

"Oh, she's alive." The way he said it made me wonder what was wrong with her. What kind of horrible person could she be?

"Okay . . ." I said. "So how do we get to Connecticut? I can call Blackjack—"

"No." Nico scowled. "Pegasi don't like me, and the feeling is mutual. But there's no need for flying." He whistled, and Mrs. O'Leary came loping out of the woods.

"Your friend here can help." Nico patted her head. "You haven't tried shadow travel yet?"

"Shadow travel?" 

Nico whispered in Mrs. O'Leary's ear. She tilted her head, suddenly alert.

"Hop on board," Nico told me.

I'd never considered riding a dog before, bur Mrs. O'Leary was certainly big enough. I climbed onto her back and held her collar.

"This will make her very tired," Nico warned, "so you can't do it often. And it works best at night. But all shadows are part of the same substance. There is only one darkness, and creatures of the Underworld can use it as a road, or a door."

"I don't understand," I said.

"No," Nico said. "It took me a long time to learn. But Mrs. O'Leary knows. Tell her where to go. Tell her Westport, the home of May Castellan."

"You're not coming?"

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll meet you there."

I was a little nervous, but I leaned down to Mrs. O'Leary's ear. "Okay, girl. Uh, can you take me to Westport, Connecticut? May Castellan's place?"

Mrs. O'Leary sniffed the air. She looked into the gloom of the forest. Then she bounded forward, straight into an oak tree.

Just before we hit, we passed into shadows as cold as the dark side of the moon. 

Mrs. O'Leary staggered. I remembered what Nico had said about shadow travel draining her, so I slipped off her back. She let out a huge toothy yawn that would've scared a T. rex, then turned in a circle and flopped down so hard the ground shook.

Nico appeared right next to me, as if the shadows had darkened and created him. He stumbled, but I caught his arm.

"I'm okay," he managed, rubbing his eyes.

"How did you do that?"

"Practice. A few times running into walls. A few accidental trips to China."

Mrs. O'Leary started snoring. If it hadn't been for the roar of traffic behind us, I'm sure she would've woken up the whole neighborhood.

"Are you going to take a nap too?" I asked Nico.

He shook his head. "The first time I shadow traveled, I passed out for a week. Now it just makes me a little drowsy, but I can't do it more than once or twice a night. Mrs. O'Leary won't be going anywhere for a while."

"So we've got some quality time in Connecticut." I gazed at the white Colonial house. "What now?"

"We ring the doorbell," Nico said. 

The front door was painted turquoise. The name CASTELLAN was written in English, and below in Greek: Διοικητής φρουρίου.

Nico looked at me. "Ready?"

He'd barely tapped the door when it swung open.

"Luke!" the old lady cried happily.

She looked like someone who enjoyed sticking her fingers in electrical sockets. Her white hair stuck out in tufts all over her head. Her pink housedress was covered in scorch marks and smears of ash. When she smiled, her face looked unnaturally stretched, and the high-voltage light in her eves made me wonder if she was blind.

"Oh, my dear boy!" She hugged Nico. I was trying to figure out why she thought Nico was Luke (they looked absolutely nothing alike), when she smiled at me and said, "Luke!"

She forgot all about Nico and gave me a hug. She smelled like burned cookies. She was as thin as a scarecrow, but that didn't stop her from almost crushing me.

"Come in!" she insisted. "I have your lunch ready!"

She ushered us inside. The living room was even weirder than the front lawn. Mirrors and candles filled every available space. I couldn't look anywhere without seeing my own reflection. Above the mantel, a little bronze Hermes flew around the second hand of a ticking clock. I tried to imagine the god of messengers ever falling in love with this old woman, but the idea was too bizarre.

Then I noticed the framed picture on the mantel, and I froze. It was exactly like Rachel's sketch— Luke around nine years old, with blond hair and a big smile and two missing teeth. The lack of a scar on his face made him look like a different person—carefree and happy. How could Rachel have known about that picture?

"This way, my dear!" Ms. Castellan steered me toward the back of the house. "Oh, I told them you would come back. I knew it!"

She sat us down at the kitchen table. Stacked on the counter were hundreds—I mean hundreds—of Tupperware boxes with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches inside. The ones on the bottom were green and fuzzy, like they'd been there for a long time. The smell reminded me of my sixth grade locker—and that's not a good thing. On top of the oven was a stack of cookie sheets. Each one had a dozen burned cookies on it. In the sink was a mountain of empty plastic Kool-Aid pitchers. A beanbag Medusa sat by the faucet like she was guarding the mess.

Ms. Castellan started humming as she got out peanut butter and jelly and started making a new sandwich. Something was burning in the oven. I got the feeling more cookies were on the way.

Above the sink, taped all around the window, were dozens of little pictures cut from magazines and newspaper ads—pictures of Hermes from the FTD Flowers logo and Quickie Cleaners, pictures of the caduceus from medical ads.

My heart sank. I wanted to get out of that room, but Ms. Castellan kept smiling at me as she made the sandwich, like she was making sure I didn't bolt.

Nico coughed. "Urn, Ms. Castellan?"

"Mm?"

"We need to ask you about your son."

"Oh, yes! They told me he would never come back. But I knew better." She patted my cheek affectionately, giving me peanut butter racing stripes.

"When did you last see him?" Nico asked.

Her eyes lost focus.

"He was so young when he left," she said wistfully. "Third grade. That's too young to run away! He said he'd be back for lunch. And I waited. He likes peanut butter sandwiches and cookies and Kool-Aid. He'll be back for lunch very soon. . . ." Then she looked at me and smiled. "Why, Luke, there you are! You look so handsome. You have your father's eyes."

She turned toward the pictures of Hermes above the sink. "Now, there's a good man. Yes, indeed. He comes to visit me, you know."

The clock kept ticking in the other room. I wiped the peanut butter off my face and looked at Nico pleadingly, like _Can we get out of here now?_

"Ma'am," Nico said. "What, uh . . . what happened to your eyes?"

Her gaze seemed fractured—like she was trying to focus on him through a kaleidoscope. "Why, Luke, you know the story. It was right before you were born, wasn't it? I'd always been special, able to see through the . . . whatever-they-call-it."

"The Mist?" I said.

"Yes, dear." She nodded encouragingly. "And they offered me an important job. That's how special I was!"

I glanced at Nico, but he looked as confused as I was.

"What sort of job?" I asked. "What happened?"

Ms. Castellan frowned. Her knife hovered over the sandwich bread. "Dear me, it didn't work out, did it? Your father warned me not to try. He said it was too dangerous. But I had to. It was my destiny! And now . . . I still can't get the images out of my head. They make everything seem so fuzzy. Would you like some cookies?" She pulled a tray out of the oven and dumped a dozen lumps of chocolate chip charcoal on the table.

"Luke was so kind," Ms. Castellan murmured. "He left to protect me, you know. He said if he went away, the monsters wouldn't threaten me. But I told him the monsters are no threat! They sit outside on the sidewalk all day, and they never come in." She picked up the little stuffed Medusa from the windowsill. "Do they, Mrs. Medusa? No, no threat at all." She beamed at me. "I'm so glad you came home. I knew you weren't ashamed of me!"

I shifted in my seat. I imagined being Luke sitting at this table, eight or nine years old, and just beginning to realize that my mother wasn't all there. 

"Ms. Castellan," I said.

"Mom," she corrected.

"Um, yeah. Have you seen Luke since he left home?"

"Well, of course!"

I didn't know if she was imagining that or not. For all I knew, every time the mailman came to the door he was Luke. But Nico sat forward expectantly.

"When?" he asked. "When did Luke visit you last?"

"Well, it was . . . Oh goodness . . ." A shadow passed across her face. "The last time, he looked so different. A scar. A terrible scar, and his voice so full of pain . . ."

"His eyes," I said. "Were they gold?"

"Gold?" She blinked. "No. How silly. Luke has blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes!"

So Luke really had been here, and this had happened before last summer—before he'd turned into Kronos.

"Ms. Castellan?" Nico put his hand on the old woman's arm. "This is very important. Did he ask you for anything?"

She frowned as if trying to remember. "My—my blessing. Isn't that sweet?" She looked at us uncertainly. "He was going to a river, and he said he needed my blessing. I gave it to him. Of course I did."

Nico looked at me triumphantly. "Thank you, ma'am. That's all the information we—"

Ms. Castellan gasped. She doubled over, and her cookie tray clattered to the floor. Nico and I jumped to our feet.

"Ms. Castellan?" I said.

"AHHHH," She straightened. I scrambled away and almost fell over the kitchen table, because her eyes—her eyes were glowing green.

"My child," she rasped in a much deeper voice. "Must protect him! Hermes, help! Not my child! Not his fate—no!"

She grabbed Nico by the shoulders and began to shake him as if to make him understand. "Not his fate!"

Nico made a strangled scream and pushed her away. He gripped the hilt of his sword. "Percy, we need to get out—"

Suddenly Ms. Castellan collapsed. I lurched forward and caught her before she could hit the edge of the table. I managed to get her into a chair.

"Ms. C?" I asked.

She muttered something incomprehensible and shook her head. "Goodness. I . . . I dropped the cookies. How silly of me."

She blinked, and her eyes were back to normal—or at least, what they had been before. The green glow was gone.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Well, of course, dear. I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

I glanced at Nico, who mouthed the word Leave.

"Ms. C, you were telling us something," I said. "Something about your son."

"Was I?" she said dreamily. "Yes, his blue eyes. We were talking about his blue eyes. Such a handsome boy!"

"We have to go," Nico said urgently. "We'll tell Luke . . . uh, we'll tell him you said hello."

"But you can't leave!" Ms. Castellan got shakily to her feet, and I backed away. I felt silly being scared of a frail old woman, but the way her voice had changed, the way she'd grabbed Nico . . .

"Hermes will be here soon," she promised. "He'll want to see his boy!"

"Maybe next time," I said. "Thank you for—" I looked down at the burned cookies scattered on the floor. "Thanks for everything."

She tried to stop us, to offer us Kool-Aid, but I had to get out of that house. On the front porch, she grabbed my wrist and I almost jumped out of my skin. "Luke, at least be safe. Promise me you'll be safe."

"I will . . . Mom."

That made her smile. She released my wrist, and as she closed the front door I could hear her talking to the candles: "You hear that? He will be safe. I told you he would be!"

As the door shut, Nico and I ran. The little beanbag animals on the sidewalk seemed to grin at us as we passed.

Back at the cliff, Mrs. O'Leary had found a friend.

A cozy campfire crackled in a ring of stones. A girl about eight years old was sitting cross-legged next to Mrs. O'Leary, scratching the hellhound's ears.

The girl had mousy brown hair and a simple brown dress. She wore a scarf over her head so she looked like a pioneer kid—like the ghost of Little House on the Prairie or something. She poked the fire with a stick, and it seemed to glow more richly red than a normal fire.

"Hello," she said.

My first thought was: monster. When you're a demigod and you find a sweet little girl alone in the woods—that's typically a good time to draw your sword and attack. Plus, the encounter with Ms. Castellan had rattled me pretty bad.

But Nico bowed to the little girl. "Hello again, Lady."

She studied me with eyes as red as the firelight. I decided it was safest to bow.

"Sit, Percy Jackson," she said. "Would you like some dinner?

After staring at moldy peanut butter sandwiches and burned cookies, I didn't have much of an appetite, but the girl waved her hand and a picnic appeared at the edge of the fire. There were plates of roast beef, baked potatoes, buttered carrots, fresh bread, and a whole bunch of other foods I hadn't had in a long time. My stomach started to rumble. It was the kind of home-cooked meal people are supposed to have but never do. The girl made a five-foot-long dog biscuit appear for Mrs. O'Leary, who happily began tearing it to shreds.

I sat next to Nico. We picked up our food, and I was about to dig in when I thought better of it.

I scraped part of my meal into the flames, the way we do at camp. "For the gods," I said.

The little girl smiled. "Thank you. As tender of the flame, I get a share of every sacrifice, you know."

"I recognize you now," I said. "The first time I came to camp, you were sitting by the fire, in the middle of the commons area."

"You did not stop to talk," the girl recalled sadly. "Alas, most never do. Nico talked to me. He was the first in many years. Everyone rushes about. No time for visiting family."

"You're Hestia," I said. "Goddess of the Hearth."

She nodded.

Okay . . . so she looked eight years old. I didn't ask. I'd learned that gods could look any way they pleased.

"My lady," Nico asked, "why aren't you with the other Olympians, fighting Typhon?"

"I'm not much for fighting." Her red eyes flickered. I realized they weren't just reflecting the flames. They were filled with flames—but not like Ares's eyes. Hestia's eyes were warm and cozy.

"Besides," she said, "someone has to keep the home fires burning while the other gods are away."

"So you're guarding Mount Olympus?" I asked.

"'Guard' may be too strong a word. But if you ever need a warm place to sit and a home-cooked meal, you are welcome to visit. Now eat."

My plate was empty before I knew it. Nico scarfed his down just as fast.

"That was great," I said. "Thank you, Hestia."

She nodded. "Did you have a good visit with May Castellan?"

For a moment I'd almost forgotten the old lady with her bright eyes and her maniacal smile, the way she'd suddenly seemed possessed.

"What's wrong with her, exactly?" I asked.

"She was born with a gift," Hestia said. "She could see through the Mist."

"Like my mother," I said. And I was also thinking, Like Rachel "But the glowing eyes thing—"

"Some bear the curse of sight better than others," the goddess said sadly. "For a while, May Castellan had many talents. She attracted the attention of Hermes himself. They had a beautiful baby boy. For a brief time, she was happy. And then she went too far."

I remembered what Ms. Castellan had said: They offered me an important job . . . It didn't work out. I wondered what kind of job left you like that.

"One minute she was all happy," I said. "And then she was freaking out about her son's fate, like she knew he'd turned into Kronos. What happened to . . . to divide her like that?"

The goddess's face darkened. "That is a story I do not like to tell. But May Castellan saw too much. If you are to understand your enemy Luke, you must understand his family."

I thought about the sad little pictures of Hermes taped above May Castellan's sink. I wondered if Ms. Castellan had been so crazy when Luke was little. That green-eyed fit could've seriously scared a nineyear-old kid. And if Hermes never visited, if he'd left Luke alone with his mom all those years . . .

"No wonder Luke ran away," I said. "I mean, it wasn't right to leave his mom like that, but still—he was just a kid. Hermes shouldn't have abandoned them."

Hestia scratched behind Mrs. O'Leary's ears. The hellhound wagged her tail and accidentally knocked over a tree.

"It's easy to judge others," Hestia warned. "But will you follow Luke's path? Seek the same powers?"

Nico set down his plate. "We have no choice, my lady. It's the only way Percy stands a chance."

"Mmm." Hestia opened her hand and the fire roared. Flames shot thirty feet into the air. Heat slapped me in the face. Then the fire died back down to normal.

"Not all powers are spectacular." Hestia looked at me. "Sometimes the hardest power to master is the power of yielding. Do you believe me?"

"Uh-huh," I said. Anything to keep her from messing with her flame powers again.

The goddess smiled. "You are a good hero, Percy Jackson. Not too proud. I like that. But you have much to learn. When Dionysus was made a god, I gave up my throne for him. It was the only way to avoid a civil war among the gods."

"It unbalanced the Council," I remembered. "Suddenly there were seven guys and five girls."

Hestia shrugged. "It was the best solution, not a perfect one. Now I tend the fire. I fade slowly into the background. No one will ever write epic poems about the deeds of Hestia. Most demigods don't even stop to talk to me. But that is no matter. I keep the peace. I yield when necessary. Can you do this?"

"I don't know what you mean."

She studied me. "Perhaps not yet. But soon. Will you continue your quest?"

"Is that why you're here—to warn me against going?"

Hestia shook her head. "I am here because when all else fails, when all the other mighty gods have gone off to war, I am all that's left. Home. Hearth. I am the last Olympian. You must remember me when you face your final decision.

I didn't like the way she said final.

I looked at Nico, then back at Hestia's warm glowing eyes. "I have to continue, my lady. I have to stop Luke . . . I mean Kronos."

Hestia nodded. "Very well. I cannot be of much assistance, beyond what I have already told you. But since you sacrificed to me, I can return you to your own hearth. I will see you again, Percy, on Olympus."

Her tone was ominous, as though our next meeting would not be happy.

The goddess waved her hand, and everything faded. 

Suddenly I was home. Nico and I were sitting on the couch in my mom's apartment on the Upper East Side. That was the good news. The bad news was that the rest of the living room was occupied by Mrs. O'Leary.

I heard a muffled yell from the bedroom. Paul's voice said, "Who put this wall of fur in the doorway?"

"Percy?" my mom called out. "Are you here? Are you all right?"

"I'm here!" I shouted back.

"WOOF!" Mrs. O'Leary tried to turn in a circle to find my mom, knocking all the pictures off the walls. She's only met my mom once before (long story), but she loves her.

It took a few minutes, but we finally got things worked out. After destroying most of the furniture in the living room and probably making our neighbors really mad, we got my parents out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where we sat around the kitchen table. Mrs. O'Leary still took up the entire living room, but she'd settled her head in the kitchen doorway so she could see us, which made her happy. My mom tossed her a ten-pound family-size tube of ground beef, which disappeared down her gullet. Paul poured lemonade for the rest of us while I explained about our visit to Connecticut.

"So it's true." Paul stared at me like he'd never seen me before. He was wearing his white bathrobe, now covered in hellhound fur, and his salt-and-pepper hair was sticking up in every direction. "All the talk about monsters, and being a demigod . . . it's really true."

I nodded. Last fall I'd explained to Paul who I was. My mom had backed me up. But until this moment, I don't think he really believed us.

"Sorry about Mrs. O'Leary," I said, "destroying the living room and all."

Paul laughed like he was delighted. "Are you kidding? This is awesome! I mean, when I saw the hoofprints on the Prius, I thought maybe. But this!"

He patted Mrs. O'Leary's snout. The living room shook—BOOM, BOOM, BOOM—which either meant a SWAT team was breaking down the door or Mrs. O'Leary was wagging her tail.

I couldn't help but smile. Paul was a pretty cool guy, even if he was my English teacher as well as my stepdad.

"Thanks for not freaking out," I said. 

"Oh, I'm freaking out," he promised, his eyes wide. "I just think it's awesome!"

"Yeah, well," I said, "you may not be so excited when you hear what's happening."

I told Paul and my mom about Typhon, and the gods, and the battle that was sure to come. Then I told them Nico's plan.

My mom laced her fingers around her lemonade glass. She was wearing her old blue flannel bathrobe, and her hair was tied back. Recently she'd started writing a novel, like she'd wanted to do for years, and I could tell she'd been working on it late into the night, because the circles under her eyes were darker than usual.

Behind her at the kitchen window, silvery moon lace glowed in the flower box. I'd brought the magical plant back from Calypso's island last summer, and it bloomed like crazy under my mother's care. The scent always calmed me down, but it also made me sad because it reminded me of lost friends.

My mom took a deep breath, like she was thinking how to tell me no.

"Percy, it's dangerous," she said. "Even for you."

"Mom, I know. I could die. Nico explained that. But if we don't try—"

"We'll all die," Nico said. He hadn't touched his lemonade. "Ms. Jackson, we don't stand a chance against an invasion. And there will be an invasion."

"An invasion of New York?" Paul said. "Is that even possible? How could we not see the . . . the monsters?" He said the word like he still couldn't believe this was real.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I don't see how Kronos could just march into Manhattan, but the Mist is strong. Typhon is trampling across the country right now, and mortals think he's a storm system."

"Ms. Jackson," Nico said, "Percy needs your blessing. The process has to start that way. I wasn't sure until we met Luke's mom, but now I'm positive. This has only been done successfully twice before. Both times, the mother had to give her blessing. She had to be willing to let her son take the risk."

"You want me to bless this?" She shook her head. "It's crazy. Percy, please—"

"Mom, I can't do it without you."

"And if you survive this . . . this process?"

"Then I go to war," I said. "Me against Kronos. And only one of us will survive."

I didn't tell her the whole prophecy—about the soul reaping and the end of my days. She didn't need to know that I was probably doomed. I could only hope I'd stop Kronos and save the rest of the world before I died.

"You're my son," she said miserably. "I can't just . . ."

I could tell I'd have to push her harder if I wanted her to agree, but I didn't want to. I remembered poor Ms. Castellan in her kitchen, waiting for her son to come home. And I realized how lucky I was. My mom had always been there for me, always tried to make things normal for me, even with the gods and monsters and stuff. She put up with me going off on adventures, but now I was asking her blessing to do something that would probably get me killed.

I locked eyes with Paul, and some kind of understanding passed between us.

"Sally." He put his hand over my mother's hands. "I can't claim to know what you and Percy have been going through all these years. But it sounds to me . . . it sounds like Percy is doing something noble. I wish I had that much courage."

I got a lump in my throat. I didn't get compliments like that too much.

My mom stared at her lemonade. She looked like she was trying not to cry. I thought about what Hestia had said, about how hard it was to yield, and I figured maybe my mom was finding that out.

"Percy," she said, "I give you my blessing."

I didn't feel any different. No magic glow lit the kitchen or anything.

I glanced at Nico.

He looked more anxious than ever, but he nodded. "It's time."

"Percy," my mom said. "One last thing. If you . . . if you survive this fight with Kronos, send me a sign." She rummaged through her purse and handed me her cell phone.

"Mom," I said, "you know demigods and phones—"

"I know," she said. "But just in case. If you're not able to call . . . maybe a sign that I could see from anywhere in Manhattan. To let me know you're okay."

"Like Theseus," Paul suggested. "He was supposed to raise white sails when he came home to Athens."

"Except he forgot," Nico muttered. "And his father jumped off the palace roof in despair. But other than that, it was a great idea."

"What about a flag or a flare?" my mom said. "From Olympus—the Empire State Building."

"Something blue," I said.

We'd had a running joke for years about blue food. It was my favorite color, and my mom went out of her way to humor me. Every year my birthday cake, my Easter basket, my Christmas candy canes always had to be blue.

"Yes," my mom agreed. "I'll watch for a blue signal. And I'll try to avoid jumping off palace roofs."

She gave me one last hug. I tried not to feel like I was saying good-bye. I shook hands with Paul.

Then Nico and I walked to the kitchen doorway and looked at Mrs. O'Leary.

"Sorry, girl," I said. "Shadow travel time again." 

She whimpered and crossed her paws over her snout.

"Where now?" I asked Nico. "Los Angeles?"

"No need," he said. "There's a closer entrance to the Underworld." 

We emerged in Central Park just north of the Pond. Mrs. O'Leary looked pretty tired as she limped over to a cluster of boulders. She started sniffing around, and I was afraid she might mark her territory, but Nico said, "It's okay. She just smells the way home."

I frowned. "Through the rocks?"

"The Underworld has two major entrances," Nico said. "You know the one in L.A."

"Charon's ferry."

Nico nodded. "Most souls go that way, but there's a smaller path, harder to find. The Door of Orpheus."

"The dude with the harp."

"Dude with the lyre," Nico corrected. "But yeah, him. He used his music to charm the earth and open a new path into the Underworld. He sang his way right into Hades's palace and almost got away with his wife's soul."

I remembered the story. Orpheus wasn't supposed to look behind him when he was leading his wife back to the world, but of course he did. It was one of those typical "and-so-they-died/the-end" stories that always made us feel warm and fuzzy.

"So this is the Door of Orpheus." I tried to be impressed, but it still looked like a pile of rocks to me.

"How does it open?"

"We need music," Nico said. "How's your singing?"

"Um, no. Can't you just, like, tell it to open? You're the son of Hades and all."

"It's not so easy. We need music."

I was pretty sure if I tried to sing, all I would cause was an avalanche.

"I have a better idea." I turned and called, "GROVER!"

We waited for a long time. Mrs. O'Leary curled up and took a nap. I could hear the crickets in the woods and an owl hooting. Traffic hummed along Central Park West. Horse hooves clopped down a nearby path, maybe a mounted police patrol. I was sure they'd love to find two kids hanging out in the park at one in the morning.

"It's no good," Nico said at last.

But I had a feeling. My empathy link was really tingling for the first time in months, which either meant a whole lot of people had suddenly switched on the Nature Channel, or Grover was close.

I shut my eyes and concentrated. _Grover._

I knew he was somewhere in the park. Why couldn't I sense his emotions? All I got was a faint hum in the base of my skull.

 _Grover_ , I thought more insistently.

 _Hmm-hmmmm_ , something said.

An image came into my head. I saw a giant elm tree deep in the woods, well off the main paths. Gnarled roots laced the ground, making a kind of bed. Lying in it with his arms crossed and his eyes closed was a satyr. At first I couldn't be sure it was Grover. He was covered in twigs and leaves, like he'd been sleeping there a long time. The roots seemed to be shaping themselves around him, slowly pulling him into the earth.

 _Grover,_ I said. _Wake up._

_Unnnh—zzzzz._

_Dude, you're covered in dirt. Wake up!_

_Sleepy,_ his mind murmured.

 _FOOD_ , I suggested. _PANCAKES!_

His eyes shot open. A blur of thoughts filled my head like he was suddenly on fast-forward. The image shattered, and I almost fell over.

"What happened?" Nico asked.

"I got through. He's . . . yeah. He's on his way."

A minute later, the tree next to us shivered. Grover fell out of the branches, right on his head.

"Grover!" I yelled.

"Woof!" Mrs. O'Leary looked up, probably wondering if we were going to play fetch with the satyr.

"Blah-haa-haa!" Grover bleated.

"You okay, man?"

"Oh, I'm fine." He rubbed his head. His horns had grown so much they poked an inch above his curly hair. "I was at the other end of the park. The dryads had this great idea of passing me through the trees to get me here. They don't understand height very well."  
He grinned and got to his feet—well, his hooves, actually. Since last summer, Grover had stopped

trying to disguise himself as human. He never wore a cap or fake feet anymore. He didn't even wear jeans, since he had furry goat legs from the waist down. His T-shirt had a picture from that book Where the Wild Things Are. It was covered with dirt and tree sap. His goatee looked fuller, almost manly (or goatly?), and he was as tall as me now.

"Good to see you, G-man," I said. "You remember Nico."

Grover nodded at Nico, then he gave me a big hug. He smelled like fresh-mown lawns.

"Perrrrcy!" he bleated. "I missed you! I miss camp. They don't serve very good enchiladas in the wilderness."

"I was worried," I said. "Where've you been the last two months?"

"The last two—" Grover's smile faded. "The last two months? What are you talking about?"

"We haven't heard from you," I said. "Juniper's worried. We sent Iris-messages, but—"

"Hold on." He looked up at the stars like he was trying to calculate his position. "What month is this?"

"August."

The color drained from his face. "That's impossible. It's June. I just lay down to take a nap and . . ." He grabbed my arms. "I remember now! He knocked me out. Percy, we have to stop him!"

"Whoa," I said. "Slow down. Tell me what happened."

He took a deep breath. "I was . . . I was walking in the woods up by Harlem Meer. And I felt this tremble in the ground, like something powerful was near."

"You can sense stuff like that?" Nico asked.

Grover nodded. "Since Pan's death, I can feel when something is wrong in nature. It's like my ears and eyes are sharper when I'm in the Wild. Anyway, I started following the scent. This man in a long black coat was walking through the park, and I noticed he didn't cast a shadow. Middle of a sunny day, and he cast no shadow. He kind of shimmered as he moved."

"Like a mirage?" Nico asked.

"Yes," Grover said. "And whenever he passed humans—"

"The humans would pass out," Nico said. "Curl up and go to sleep."

"That's right! Then after he was gone, they'd get up and go about their business like nothing happened."

I stared at Nico. "You know this guy in black?"

"Afraid so," Nico said. "Grover, what happened?"

"I followed the guy. He kept looking up at the buildings around the park like he was making estimates or something. This lady jogger ran by, and she curled up on the sidewalk and started snoring. The guy in black put his hand on her forehead like he was checking her temperature. Then he kept walking. By this time, I knew he was a monster or something even worse. I followed him into this grove, to the base of a big elm tree. I was about to summon some dryads to help me capture him when he turned  
and . . ."

Grover swallowed. "Percy, his face. I couldn't make out his face because it kept shifting. Just looking at him made me sleepy. I said, 'What are you doing?' He said, 'Just having a look around. You should always scout a battlefield before the battle.' I said something really smart like, 'This forest is under my protection. You won't start any battles here!' And he laughed. He said, 'You're lucky I'm saving my energy for the main event, little satyr. I'll just grant you a short nap. Pleasant dreams.' And that's the last  
thing I remember."

Nico exhaled. "Grover, you met Morpheus, the God of Dreams. You're lucky you ever woke up."

"Two months," Grover moaned. "He put me to sleep for two months!"

I tried to wrap my mind around what this meant. Now it made sense why we hadn't been able to contact Grover all this time.

"Why didn't the nymphs try to wake you?" I asked.

Grover shrugged. "Most nymphs aren't good with time. Two months for a tree—that's nothing. They probably didn't think anything was wrong."

"We've got to figure out what Morpheus was doing in the park," I said. "I don't like this 'main event' thing he mentioned."

"He's working for Kronos," Nico said. "We know that already. A lot of the minor gods are. This just proves there's going to be an invasion. Percy, we have to get on with our plan."

"Wait," Grover said. "What plan?"

We told him, and Grover started tugging at his leg fur.

"You're not serious," he said. "Not the Underworld again."

"I'm not asking you to come, man," I promised. "I know you just woke up. But we need some music to open the door. Can you do it?"

Grover took out his reed pipes. "I guess I could try. I know a few Nirvana tunes that can split rocks. But, Percy, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Please, man," I said. "It would mean a lot. For old times' sake?"

He whimpered. "As I recall, in the old times we almost died a lot. But okay, here goes nothing."

He put his pipes to his lips and played a shrill, lively tune. The boulders trembled. A few more stanzas, and they cracked open, revealing a triangular crevice.

I peered inside. Steps led down into the darkness. The air smelled of mildew and death. It brought back bad memories of my trip through the Labyrinth last year, but this tunnel felt even more dangerous. It led straight to the land of Hades, and that was almost always a one-way trip.

I turned to Grover. "Thanks . . . I think."

"Perrrrcy, is Kronos really going to invade?"

"I wish I could tell you better, but yeah. He will."

I thought Grover might chew up his reed pipes in anxiety, but he straightened up and brushed off his T-shirt. I couldn't help thinking how different he looked from fat old Leneus. "I've got to rally the nature spirits, then. Maybe we can help. I'll see if we can find this Morpheus.'"

"Better tell Juniper you're okay, too."

His eyes widened. "Juniper! Oh, she's going to kill me!" 

He started to run off, then scrambled back and gave me another hug. "Be careful down there! Come back alive!"

Once he was gone, Nico and I roused Mrs. O'Leary from her nap.

When she smelled the tunnel, she got excited and led the way down the steps. It was a pretty tight fit. I hoped she wouldn't get stuck. I couldn't imagine how much Drano we'd need to un-stick a hellhound wedged halfway down a tunnel to the Underworld.

"Ready?" Nico asked me. "It'll be fine. Don't worry."

He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

I glanced up at the stars, wondering if I would ever see them again. Then we plunged into darkness. 

The stairs went on forever—narrow, steep, and slippery. It was completely dark except for the light of my sword. I tried to go slow, but Mrs. O'Leary had other ideas. She bounded ahead, barking happily. The sound echoed through the tunnel like cannon shots, and I figured we would not be catching anybody by surprise once we reached the bottom.

Nico lagged behind, which I thought was strange.

"You okay?" I asked him.

"Fine." What was that expression on his face . . . doubt? "Just keep moving," he said.

I didn't have much choice. I followed Mrs. O'Leary into the depths. After another hour, I started to hear the roar of a river.

We emerged at the base of a cliff, on a plain of black volcanic sand. To our right, the River Styx gushed from the rocks and roared off in a cascade of rapids. To our left, far away in the gloom, fires burned on the ramparts of Erebos, the great black walls of Hades's kingdom.

I shuddered. I'd first been here when I was twelve, and only Annabeth and Grover's company had given me the courage to keep going. Nico wasn't going to be quite as helpful with the "courage" thing. He looked pale and worried himself.

Only Mrs. O'Leary acted happy. She ran along the beach, picked up a random human leg bone, and romped back toward me. She dropped the bone at my feet and waited for me to throw it.

"Um, maybe later, girl." I stared at the dark waters, trying to get up my nerve. "So, Nico . . . how do we do this?"

"We have to go inside the gates first," he said.

"But the river's right here."

"I have to get something," he said. "It's the only way."

He marched off without waiting.

I frowned. Nico hadn't mentioned anything about going inside the gates. But now that we were here, I didn't know what else to do. Reluctantly, I followed him down the beach toward the big black gates.

Lines of the dead stood outside waiting to get in. It must've been a heavy day for funerals, because even the EZ-DEATH line was backed up. 

"Woof!" Mrs. O'Leary said. Before I could stop her she bounded toward the security checkpoint Cerberus, the guard dog of Hades, appeared out of the gloom—a three-headed rottweiler so big he made Mrs. O'Leary look like a toy poodle. Cerberus was half transparent, so he's really hard to see until he's close enough to kill you, but he acted like he didn't care about us. He was too busy saying hello to Mrs. O'Leary.

"Mrs. O'Leary, no!" I shouted at her. "Don't sniff . . . Oh, man."

Nico smiled. Then he looked at me and his expression turned all serious again, like he'd remembered something unpleasant. "Come on. They won't give us any trouble in the line. You're with me."

I didn't like it, but we slipped through the security ghouls and into the Fields of Asphodel. I had to whistle for Mrs. O'Leary three times before she left Cerberus alone and ran after us.

We hiked over black fields of grass dotted with black poplar trees. If I really died in a few days like the prophecy said, I might end up here forever, but I tried not to think about that. Nico trudged ahead, bringing us closer and closer to the palace of Hades.

"Hey," I said, "we're inside the gates already. Where are we—"

Mrs. O'Leary growled. A shadow appeared overhead—something dark, cold, and stinking of death. It swooped down and landed in the top of a poplar tree.

Unfortunately, I recognized her. She had a shriveled face, a horrible blue knit hat, and a crumpled velvet dress. Leathery bat wings sprang from her back. Her feet had sharp talons, and in her brass-clawed hands she held a flaming whip and a paisley handbag.

"Mrs. Dodds," I said.

She bared her fangs. "Welcome back, honey."

Her two sisters—the other Furies—swooped down and settled next to her in the branches of the poplar.

"You know Alecto?" Nico asked me.

"If you mean the hag in the middle, yeah," I said. "She was my math teacher."

Nico nodded, like this didn't surprise him. He looked up at the Furies and took a deep breath. "I've done what my father asked. Take us to the palace."

I tensed. "Wait a second, Nico. What do you—"

"I'm afraid this is my new lead, Percy. My father promised me information about my family, but he wants to see you before we try the river. I'm sorry."

"You tricked me?" I was so mad I couldn't think. I lunged at him, but the Furies were fast. Two of them swooped down and plucked me up by the arms. My sword fell out of my hand, and before I knew it, I was dangling sixty feet in the air.

"Oh, don't struggle, honey," my old math teacher cackled in my ear. "I'd hate to drop you."

Mrs. O'Leary barked angrily and jumped, trying to reach me, but we were too high.

"Tell Mrs. O'Leary to behave," Nico warned. He was hovering near me in the clutches of the third Fury. "I don't want her to get hurt, Percy. My father is waiting. He just wants to talk." 

I wanted to tell Mrs. O'Leary to attack Nico, but it wouldn't have done any good, and Nico was right about one thing: my dog could get hurt if she tried to pick a fight with the Furies.

I gritted my teeth. "Mrs. O'Leary, down! It's okay, girl."

She whimpered and turned in circles, looking up at me.

"All right, traitor," I growled at Nico. "You've got your prize. Take me to the stupid palace."

The third Fury deposited Nico next to me. Then all three of them settled on the top of the skeletal throne. I resisted the urge to strangle Nico. They'd only stop me. I'd have to wait for my revenge.

I stared at the empty thrones, waiting for something to happen. Then the air shimmered. Three figures appeared—Hades and Persephone on their thrones, and an older woman standing between them. They seemed to be in the middle of an argument.

"—told you he was a bum!" the older woman said.

"Mother!" Persephone replied.

"We have visitors!" Hades barked. "Please!"

Hades, one of my least favorite gods, smoothed his black robes, which were covered with the terrified faces of the damned. He had pale skin and the intense eyes of a madman.

"Percy Jackson," he said with satisfaction. "At last."

Queen Persephone studied me curiously. I'd seen her once before in the winter, but now in the summer she looked like a totally different goddess. She had lustrous black hair and warm brown eyes. Her dress shimmered with colors. Flower patterns in the fabric changed and bloomed—roses, tulips, honeysuckle.

The woman standing between them was obviously Persephone's mother. She had the same hair and eyes, but looked older and sterner. Her dress was golden, the color of a wheat field. Her hair was woven with dried grasses so it reminded me of a wicker basket. I figured if somebody lit a match next to her, she'd be in serious trouble.

"Hmmph," the older woman said. "Demigods. Just what we need."

Next to me, Nico knelt. I wished I had my sword so I could cut his stupid head off. Unfortunately, Riptide was still out in the fields somewhere.

"Father," Nico said. "I have done as you asked."

"Took you long enough," Hades grumbled. "Your sister would've done a better job." 

Nico lowered his head. If I hadn't been so mad at the little creep, I might've felt sorry for him.

I glared up at the god of the dead. "What do you want, Hades?"

"To talk, of course." The god twisted his mouth in a cruel smile. "Didn't Nico tell you?"

"So this whole quest was a lie. Nico brought me down here to get me killed."

"Oh, no," Hades said. "I'm afraid Nico was quite sincere about wanting to help you. The boy is as honest as he is dense. I simply convinced him to take a small detour and bring you here first."

"Father," Nico said, "you promised that Percy would not be harmed. You said if I brought him, you would tell me about my past—about my mother."

Queen Persephone sighed dramatically. "Can we please not talk about that woman in my presence?"

"I'm sorry, my dove," Hades said. "I had to promise the boy something."

The older lady harrumphed. "I warned you, daughter. This scoundrel Hades is no good. You could've married the god of doctors or the god of lawyers, but noooo. You had to eat the pomegranate."

"Mother—"

"And get stuck in the Underworld!"

"Mother, please—"

"And here it is August, and do you come home like you're supposed to? Do you ever think about your poor lonely mother?"

"DEMETER!" Hades shouted. "That is enough. You are a guest in my house."

"Oh, a house is it?" she said. "You call this dump a house? Make my daughter live in this dark, damp—"

"I told you," Hades said, grinding his teeth, "there's a war in the world above. You and Persephone are better off here with me."

"Excuse me," I broke in. "But if you're going to kill me, could you just get on with it?"

All three gods looked at me.

"Well, this one has an attitude," Demeter observed.

"Indeed," Hades agreed. "I'd love to kill him."

"Father!" Nico said. "You promised!"

"Husband, we talked about this," Persephone chided. "You can't go around incinerating every hero. Besides, he's brave. I like that."

Hades rolled his eyes. "You liked that Orpheus fellow too. Look how well that turned out. Let me kill him, just a little bit."

"Father, you promised!" Nico said. "You said you only wanted to talk to him. You said if I brought him, you'd explain."

Hades glowered, smoothing the folds of his robes. "And so I shall. Your mother—what can I tell you? She was a wonderful woman." He glanced uncomfortably at Persephone. "Forgive me, my dear. I mean for a mortal, of course. Her name was Maria di Angelo. She was from Venice, but her father was a diplomat in Washington, D.C. That's where I met her. When you and your sister were young, it was a bad time to be children of Hades. World War II was brewing. A few of my, ah, other children were leading the losing side. I thought it best to put you two out of harm's way."

"That's why you hid us in the Lotus Casino?"

Hades shrugged. "You didn't age. You didn't realize time was passing. I waited for the right time to bring you out."

"But what happened to our mother? Why don't I remember her?"

"Not important," Hades snapped.

"What? Of course it's important. And you had other children—why were we the only ones who were sent away? And who was the lawyer who got us out?"

Hades grit his teeth. "You would do well to listen more and talk less, boy. As for the lawyer . . ."

Hades snapped his fingers. On top of his throne, the Fury Alecto began to change until she was a middle-aged man in a pinstriped suit with a briefcase. She—he—looked strange crouching at Hades's shoulder.

"You!" Nico said.

The Fury cackled. "I do lawyers and teachers very well!"

Nico was trembling. "But why did you free us from the casino?"

"You know why," Hades said. "This idiot son of Poseidon cannot be allowed to be the child of the prophecy."

I plucked a ruby off the nearest plant and threw it at Hades. It sank harmlessly into his robe. "You should be helping Olympus!" I said. "All the other gods are fighting Typhon, and you're just sitting here—"

"Waiting things out," Hades finished. "Yes, that's correct. When's the last time Olympus ever helped me, half-blood? When's the last time a child of mine was ever welcomed as a hero? Bah! Why should I rush out and help them? I'll stay here with my forces intact."

"And when Kronos comes after you?"

"Let him try. He'll be weakened. And my son here, Nico—" Hades looked at him with distaste. "Well, he's not much now, I'll grant you. It would've been better if Bianca had lived. But give him four more years of training. We can hold out that long, surely. Nico will turn sixteen, as the prophecy says, and then he will make the decision that will save the world. And I will be king of the gods."

"You're crazy," I said. "Kronos will crush you, right after he finishes pulverizing Olympus."

Hades spread his hands. "Well, you'll get a chance to find out, half-blood. Because you'll be waiting out this war in my dungeons."

"No!" Nico said. "Father, that wasn't our agreement. And you haven't told me everything!"

"I've told you all you need to know," Hades said. "As for our agreement, I spoke with Jackson. I did not harm him. You got your information. If you had wanted a better deal, you should've made me swear on the Styx. Now, go to your room!" He waved his hand, and Nico vanished. 

"That boy needs to eat more," Demeter grumbled. "He's too skinny. He needs more cereal."

Persephone rolled her eyes. "Mother, enough with the cereal. My lord Hades, are you sure we can't let this little hero go? He's awfully brave." 

The mountain of darkness loomed above me. A foot the size of Yankee Stadium was about to smash me when a voice hissed, "Percy!"

I lunged out blindly. Before I was fully awake, I had Nico pinned to the floor of the cell with the edge of my sword at his throat.

"Want . . . to . . . rescue," he choked.

Anger woke me up fast. "Oh, yeah? And why should I trust you?" 

"No . . . choice?" he gagged.

I wished he hadn't said something logical like that. I let him go.

Nico curled into a ball and made retching sounds while his throat recovered. Finally he got to his feet, eyeing my sword warily. His own blade was sheathed. I suppose if he'd wanted to kill me, he could've done it while I slept. Still, I didn't trust him.

"We have to get out of here," he said.

"Why?" I said. "Does your dad want to talk to me again?"

He winced. "Percy, I swear on the River Styx, I didn't know what he was planning."

"You know what your dad is like!"

"He tricked me. He promised—" Nico held up his hands. "Look . . . right now, we need to leave. I put the guards to sleep, but it won't last."

I wanted to strangle him again. Unfortunately, he was right. We didn't have time to argue, and I couldn't escape on my own. He pointed at the wall. A whole section vanished, revealing a corridor.

"Come on." Nico led the way.

I wished I had Annabeth's invisibility hat, but as it turned out, I didn't need it. Every time we came to a skeleton guard, Nico just pointed at it, and its glowing eyes dimmed. Unfortunately, the more Nico did it, the more tired he seemed. We walked through a maze of corridors filled with guards. By the time we reached a kitchen staffed by skeletal cooks and servants, I was practically carrying Nico. He managed to put all the dead to sleep but nearly passed out himself. I dragged him out of the servants' entrance and into the Fields of Asphodel.

I almost felt relieved until I heard the sound of bronze gongs high in the castle.

"Alarms," Nico murmured sleepily.

"What do we do?"

He yawned then frowned like he was trying to remember. "How about . . . run?" 

Running with a drowsy child of Hades was more like doing a three-legged race with a life-size rag doll. I lugged him along, holding my sword in front of me. The spirits of the dead made way like the Celestial bronze was a blazing fire.

The sound of gongs rolled across the fields. Ahead loomed the walls of Erebos, but the longer we walked, the farther away they seemed. I was about to collapse from exhaustion when I heard a familiar "WOOOOOF!"

Mrs. O'Leary bounded out of nowhere and ran circles around us, ready to play.

"Good girl.'" I said. "Can you give us a ride to the Styx?"

The word Styx got her excited. She probably thought I meant sticks. She jumped a few times, chased her tail just to teach it who was boss, and then calmed down enough for me to push Nico onto her back. I climb aboard, and she raced toward the gates. She leaped straight over the EZ-DEATH line, sending guards sprawling and causing more alarms to blare. Cerberus barked, but he sounded more excited than angry, like: _Can I play too?_

Fortunately, he didn't follow us, and Mrs. O'Leary kept running. She didn't stop until we were far upriver and the fires of Erebos had disappeared in the murk. 

Nico slid off Mrs. O'Leary's back and crumpled in a heap on the black sand.

I took out a square of ambrosia—part of the emergency god-food I always kept with me. It was a little bashed up, but Nico chewed it.

"Uh," he mumbled. "Better."

"Your powers drain you too much," I noted.

He nodded sleepily. "With great power . . . comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later."

"Whoa, zombie dude." I caught him before he could pass out again. "We're at the river. You need to tell me what to do."

I fed him the last of my ambrosia, which was a little dangerous. The stuff can heal demigods, but it can also burn us to ashes if we eat too much. Fortunately, it seemed to do the trick. Nico shook his head a few times and struggled to his feet.

"My father will be coming soon," he said. "We should hurry."

The River Styx's current swirled with strange objects—broken toys, ripped-up college diplomas, wilted homecoming corsages—all the dreams people had thrown away as they'd passed from life into death. Looking at the black water, I could think of about three million places I'd rather swim.

"So . . . I just jump in?"

"You have to prepare yourself first," Nico said, "or the river will destroy you. It will burn away your body and soul."

"Sounds fun," I muttered.

"This is no joke," Nico warned. "There is only one way to stay anchored to your mortal life. You have to . . ."

He glanced behind me and his eyes widened. I turned and found myself face-to-face with a Greek warrior.

For a second I thought he was Ares, because this guy looked exactly like the god of war—tall and buff, with a cruel scarred face and closely shaved black hair. He wore a white tunic and bronze armor. He held a plumed war helm under his arm. But his eyes were human—pale green like a shallow sea—and a bloody arrow stuck out of his left calf, just above the ankle. I stunk at Greek names, but even I knew the greatest warrior of all time, who had died from a wounded heel.

"Achilles," I said. 

The ghost nodded. "I warned the other one not to follow my path. Now I will warn you."

"Luke? You spoke with Luke?"

"Do not do this," he said. "It will make you powerful. But it will also make you weak. Your prowess in combat will be beyond any mortal's, but your weaknesses, your failings will increase as well."

"You mean I'll have a bad heel?" I said. "Couldn't I just, like, wear something besides sandals? No offense."

He stared down at his bloody foot. "The heel is only my physical weakness, demigod. My mother, Thetis, held me there when she dipped me in the Styx. What really killed me was my own arrogance. Beware! Turn back!"

He meant it. I could hear the regret and bitterness in his voice. He was honestly trying to save me from a terrible fate.

Then again, Luke had been here, and he hadn't turned back.

That's why Luke had been able to host the spirit of Kronos without his body disintegrating. This is how he'd prepared himself, and why he seemed impossible to kill. He had bathed in the River Styx and taken on the powers of the greatest mortal hero, Achilles. He was invincible.

"I have to," I said. "Otherwise I don't stand a chance."

Achilles lowered his head. "Let the gods witness I tried. Hero, if you must do this, concentrate on your mortal point. Imagine one spot of your body that will remain vulnerable. This is the point where your soul will anchor your body to the world. It will be your greatest weakness, but also your only hope. No man may be completely invulnerable. Lose sight of what keeps you mortal, and the River Styx will burn you to ashes. You will cease to exist."

"I don't suppose you could tell me Luke's mortal point?"

He scowled. "Prepare yourself, foolish boy. Whether you survive this or not, you have sealed your doom!"

With that happy thought, he vanished.

"Percy," Nico said, "maybe he's right."

"This was your idea."

"I know, but now that we're here—"

"Just wait on the shore. If anything happens to me . . . Well, maybe Hades will get his wish, and you'll be the child of the prophecy after all."

He didn't look pleased about that, but I didn't care. 

Suddenly I burst out of the river. I collapsed on the sand, and Nico scrambled back in surprise.

"Are you okay?" he stammered. "Your skin. Oh, gods. You're hurt!"

My arms were bright red. I felt like every inch of my body had been broiled over a slow flame. I looked around for Annabeth, though I knew she wasn't here. It had seemed so real.

"I'm fine . . . I think." The color of my skin turned back to normal. The pain subsided. Mrs. O'Leary came up and sniffed me with concern. Apparently I smelled really interesting. 

"Do you feel stronger?" Nico asked.

Before I could decide what I felt, a voice boomed, "THERE!"

An army of the dead marched toward us. A hundred skeletal Roman legionnaires led the way with shields and spears. Behind them came an equal number of British redcoats with bayonets fixed. In the middle of the host, Hades himself rode a black-and-gold chariot pulled by nightmare horses, their eyes and manes smoldering with fire.

"You will not escape me this time, Percy Jackson!" Hades bellowed. "Destroy him!"

"Father, no!" Nico shouted, but it was too late. The front line of Roman zombies lowered their spears and advanced.

Mrs. O'Leary growled and got ready to pounce. Maybe that's what set me off. I didn't want them hurting my dog. Plus, I was tired of Hades being a big bully. If I was going to die, I might as well go down fighting. 

Nico's mouth hung open. "You just . . . with a sword . . . you just—" 

"I think the river thing worked," I said.

"Oh gee," he said sarcastically. "You think?"

Mrs. O'Leary barked happily and wagged her tail. She bounded around, sniffing empty uniforms and hunting for bones. I lifted Hades's robe. I could still see the tormented faces shimmering in the fabric.

I walked to the edge of the river. "Be free."

I dropped the robe in the water and watched as it swirled away, dissolving in the current.

"Go back to your father," I told Nico. "Tell him he owes me for letting him go. Find out what's going to happen to Mount Olympus and convince him to help."

Nico stared at me. "I . . . I can't. He'll hate me now. I mean . . . even more."

"You have to," I said. "You owe me too."

His ears turned red. "Percy, I told you I was sorry. Please . . . let me come with you. I want to fight."

"You'll be more help down here."

"You mean you don't trust me anymore," he said miserably.

I didn't answer. I didn't know what I meant. I was too stunned by what I'd just done in battle to think clearly.

"Just go back to your father," I said, trying not to sound too harsh. "Work on him. You're the only person who might be able to get him to listen."

"That's a depressing thought." Nico sighed. "All right. I'll do my best. Besides, he's still hiding something from me about my mom. Maybe I can find out what."

"Good luck. Now Mrs. O'Leary and I have to go."

"Where?" Nico said.

I looked at the cave entrance and thought about the long climb back to the world of the living. "To get this war started. It's time I found Luke." 

I nodded reluctantly. "Nico and I visited her. She was a little . . . different." I described May Castellan, and the weird moment when her eyes had started to glow and she talked about her son's fate.

Annabeth frowned. "That doesn't make sense. But why were you visiting—" Her eyes widened. "Hermes said you bear the curse of Achilles. Hestia said the same thing. Did you . . . did you bathe in the River Styx?"

"Don't change the subject."

"Percy! Did you or not?"

"Um . . . maybe a little."

I told her the story about Hades and Nico, and how I'd defeated an army of the dead. I left out the vision of her pulling me out of the river. I still didn't quite understand that part, and just thinking about it made me embarrassed. 

In my dream, I saw Nico di Angelo alone in the gardens of Hades. He'd just dug a hole in one of Persephone's flower beds, which I didn't figure would make the queen very happy.

He poured a goblet of wine into the hole and began to chant. "Let the dead taste again. Let them rise and take this offering. Maria di Angelo, show yourself!"

White smoke gathered. A human figure formed, but it wasn't Nico's mother. It was a girl with dark hair, olive skin, and the silvery clothes of a Hunter.

"Bianca," Nico said. "But—"

 _Don't summon our mother, Nico,_ she warned. _She is the one spirit you are forbidden to see._

"Why?" he demanded. "What's our father hiding?"

 _Pain,_ Bianca said. _Hatred. A curse that stretches back to the Great Prophecy._

"What do you mean?" Nico said. "I have to know!"

_The knowledge will only hurt you. Remember what I said: holding grudges is a fatal flaw for children of Hades._

"I know that," Nico said. "But I'm not the same as I used to be, Bianca. Stop trying to protect me!"

_Brother, you don't understand—_

Nico swiped his hand through the mist, and Bianca s image dissipated.

"Maria di Angelo," he said again. "Speak to me!"

A different image formed. It was a scene rather than a single ghost. In the mist, I saw Nico and Bianca as little children, playing in the lobby of an elegant hotel, chasing each other around marble columns.

A woman sat on a nearby sofa. She wore a black dress, gloves, and a black veiled hat like a star from an old 1940s movie. She had Bianca's smile and Nico's eyes. 

On a chair next to her sat a large oily man in a black pinstripe suit. With a shock, I realized it was Hades. He was leaning toward the woman, using his hands as he talked, like he was agitated.

"Please, my dear," he said. "You must come to the Underworld. I don't care what Persephone thinks! I can keep you safe there."

"No, my love." She spoke with an Italian accent. "Raise our children in the land of the dead? I will not do this."

"Maria, listen to me. The war in Europe has turned the other gods against me. A prophecy has been made. My children are no longer safe. Poseidon and Zeus have forced me into an agreement. None of us are to have demigod children ever again."

"But you already have Nico and Bianca. Surely—"

"No! The prophecy warns of a child who turns sixteen. Zeus has decreed that the children I currently have must be turned over to Camp Half-Blood for proper training, but I know what he means. At best they'll be watched, imprisoned, turned against their father. Even more likely, he will not take a chance. He won't allow my demigod children to reach sixteen. He'll find a way to destroy them, and I won't risk that!"

"Certamente," Maria said. "We will stay together. Zeus is un imbecile."

I couldn't help admiring her courage, but Hades glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Maria, please. I told you, Zeus gave me a deadline of last week to turn over the children. His wrath will be horrible, and I cannot hide you forever. As long as you are with the children, you are in danger too."

Maria smiled, and again it was creepy how much she looked like her daughter. "You are a god, my love. You will protect us. But I will not take Nico and Bianca to the Underworld."

Hades wrung his hands. "Then, there is another option. I know a place in the desert where time stands still. I could send the children there, just for a while, for their own safety, and we could be together. I will build you a golden palace by the Styx."

Maria di Angelo laughed gently. "You are a kind man, my love. A generous man. The other gods should see you as I do, and they would not fear you so. But Nico and Bianca need their mother. Besides, they are only children. The gods wouldn't really hurt them."

"You don't know my family," Hades said darkly. "Please, Maria, I can't lose you."

She touched his lips with her fingers. "You will not lose me. Wait for me while I get my purse. Watch the children."

She kissed the lord of the dead and rose from the sofa. Hades watched her walk upstairs as if her every step away caused him pain.

A moment later, he tensed. The children stopped playing as if they sensed something too.

"No!" Hades said. But even his godly powers were too slow. He only had time to erect a wall of black energy around the children before the hotel exploded. 

The force was so violent, the entire mist image dissolved.

When it came into focus again, I saw Hades kneeling in the ruins, holding the broken form of Maria di Angelo. Fires still burned all around him. Lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder rumbled. Little Nico and Bianca stared at their mother uncomprehendingly. The Fury Alecto appeared behind them, hissing and flapping her leathery wings. The children didn't seem to notice her.

"Zeus!" Hades shook his fist at the sky. "I will crush you for this! I will bring her back!"

"My lord, you cannot," Alecto warned. "You of all immortals must respect the laws of death."

Hades glowed with rage. I thought he would show his true form and vaporize his own children, but at the last moment he seemed to regain control.

"Take them," he told Alecto, choking back a sob. "Wash their memories clean m the Lethe and bring them to the Lotus Hotel. Zeus will not harm them there."

"As you wish, my lord," Alecto said. "And the woman's body?

"Take her as well," he said bitterly. "Give her the ancient rites."

Alecto, the children, and Maria's body dissolved into shadows, leaving Hades alone in the ruins.

"I warned you," a new voice said.

Hades turned. A girl in a multicolored dress stood by the smoldering remains of the sofa. She had short black hair and sad eyes. She was no more than twelve. I didn't know her, but she looked strangely familiar.

"You dare come here?" Hades growled. "I should blast you to dust!"

"You cannot," the girl said. "The power of Delphi protects me."

With a chill, I realized I was looking at the Oracle of Delphi, back when she was alive and young. Somehow, seeing her like this was even spookier than seeing her as a mummy.

"You've killed the woman I loved!" Hades roared. "Your prophecy brought us to this.'"

He loomed over the girl, but she didn't flinch.

"Zeus ordained the explosion to destroy the children," she said, "because you defied his will. I had nothing to do with it. And I did warn you to hide them sooner."

"I couldn't! Maria would not let me! Besides, they were innocent."

"Nevertheless, they are your children, which makes them dangerous. Even if you put them away in the Lotus Hotel, you only delay the problem. Nico and Bianca will never be able to rejoin the world lest they turn sixteen."

"Because of your so-called Great Prophecy. And you have forced me into an oath to have no other children. You have left me with nothing!"

"I foresee the future," the girl said. "I cannot change it." 

Black fire lit the god's eyes, and I knew something bad was coming. I wanted to yell at the girl to hide or run.

"Then, Oracle, hear the words of Hades," he growled. "Perhaps I cannot bring back Maria. Nor can I bring yon an early death. But your soul is still mortal, and I can curse you."

The girl's eyes widened. "You would not—"

"I swear," Hades said, "as long as my children remain outcasts, as long as I labor under the curse of your Great Prophecy, the Oracle of Delphi will never have another mortal host. You will never rest in peace. No other will take your place. Your body will wither and die, and still the Oracle's spirit will be locked inside you. You will speak your bitter prophecies until you crumble to nothing. The Oracle will die with you!"

The girl screamed, and the misty image was blasted to shreds. Nico fell to his knees in Persephone's garden, his face white with shock. Standing in front of him was the real Hades, towering in his black robes and scowling down at his son.

"And just what," he asked Nico, "do you think you're doing?"

A black explosion filled my dreams. Then the scene changed. 

In my dreams, I was back in Hades's garden. The lord of the dead paced up and down, holding his ears while Nico followed him, waving his arms.

"You have to!" Nico insisted.

Demeter and Persephone sat behind them at the breakfast table. Both of the goddesses looked bored. Demeter poured shredded wheat into four huge bowls. Persephone was magically changing the flower arrangement on the table, turning the blossoms from red to yellow to polka-dotted.

"I don't have to do anything!" Hades s eyes blazed. "I'm a god!"

"Father," Nico said, "if Olympus falls, your own palace's safety doesn't matter. You'll fade too."

"I am not an Olympian!" he growled. "My family has made that quite clear."

"You are,'' Nico said. "Whether you like it or not."

"You saw what they did to your mother," Hades said. "Zeus killed her. And you would have me help them? They deserve what they get!"

Persephone sighed. She walked her fingers across the table, absently turning the silverware into roses.

"Could we please not talk about that woman?"

"You know what would help this boy?" Demeter mused. "Farming."

Persephone rolled her eyes. "Mother—"

"Six months behind a plow. Excellent character building."

Nico stepped in front of his father, forcing Hades to face him. "My mother understood about family. That's why she didn't want to leave us. You can't just abandon your family because they did something horrible. You've done horrible things to them too."

"Maria died!" Hades reminded him.

"You can't just cut yourself off from the other gods!"

"I've done very well at it for thousands of years."

"And has that made you feel any better?" Nico demanded. "Has that curse on the Oracle helped you at all? Holding grudges is a fatal flaw. Bianca warned me about that, and she was right."

"For demigods! I am immortal, all-powerful! I would not help the other gods if they begged me, if Percy Jackson himself pleaded—"

"You're just as much of an outcast as I am!" Nico yelled. "Stop being angry about it and do something helpful for once. That's the only way they'll respect you!"

Hades's palm filled with black fire.

"Go ahead," Nico said. "Blast me. That's just what the other gods would expect from you. Prove them right."

"Yes, please," Demeter complained. "Shut him up."

Persephone sighed. "Oh, I don't know. I would rather fight in the war than eat another bowl of cereal. This is boring."

Hades roared in anger. His fireball hit a silver tree right next to Nico, melting it into a pool of liquid metal. 

I remembered something Chris Rodriguez had said: _There's no point in defending camp if you guys die. All our friends are here_. And Nico, standing up to his father, Hades: _If Olympus falls, he said, your own palace's safety doesn't matter._

Soon there was a free aisle down the center of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block was my giant dog, and a small figure in black armor.

"Nico?" I called.

"ROWWF!" Mrs. O'Leary bounded toward me, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. Nico strode forward. The enemy army fell back before him like he radiated death, which of course he did. Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, he smiled. "Got your message. Is it too late to join the party?" 

"Son of Hades." Kronos spit on the ground. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"

"Your death," Nico said, "would be great for me."

"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."

Nico drew his sword—three feet of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare. "I don't agree."

The ground rumbled. Cracks appeared m the road, the sidewalks, the sides of the buildings. Skeletal hands grasped the air as the dead clawed their way into the world of the living. There were thousands of them, and as they emerged, the Titan's monsters got jumpy and started to back up.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" Kronos demanded. "The dead are no match for us."

The sky turned dark and cold. Shadows thickened. A harsh war horn sounded, and as the dead soldiers formed up ranks with their guns and swords and spears, an enormous chariot roared down Fifth Avenue. It came to a stop next to Nico. The horses were living shadows, fashioned from darkness. The chariot was inlaid with obsidian and gold, decorated with scenes of painful death. Holding the reins was Hades himself, Lord of the Dead, with Demeter and Persephone riding behind him.

Hades wore black armor and a cloak the color of fresh blood. On top of his pale head was the helm of darkness: a crown that radiated pure terror. It changed shape as I watched—from a dragon's head to a circle of black flames to a wreath of human bones. But that wasn't the scary part. The helm reached into my mind and ignited my worst nightmares, my most secret fears. I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, and I could tell the enemy army felt the same way. Only Kronos's power and authority kept his ranks from fleeing.

Hades smiled coldly. "Hello, Father. You're looking . . . young."

"Hades," Kronos growled. "I hope you and the ladies have come to pledge your allegiance."

"I'm afraid not." Hades sighed. "My son here convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies." He glanced at me with distaste. "As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, it would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on—it is that you were a TERRIBLE father."

"True," muttered Demeter. "No appreciation of agriculture."

"Mother!" Persephone complained.

Hades drew his sword, a double-edged Stygian blade etched with silver. "Now fight me! For today the House of Hades will be called the saviors of Olympus."

"I don't have time for this," Kronos snarled.

He struck the ground with his scythe. A crack spread in both directions, circling the Empire State Building. A wall of force shimmered along the fissure line, separating Kronos's vanguard, my friends, and me from the bulk of the two armies.

"What's he doing?" I muttered. 

"Sealing us in," Thalia said. "He's collapsing the magic barriers around Manhattan—cutting off just the building, and us."

Sure enough, outside the barrier, car engines revved to life. Pedestrians woke up and stared uncomprehendingly at the monsters and zombies all around them. No telling what they saw through the Mist, but I'm sure it was plenty scary. Car doors opened. And at the end of the block, Paul Blofis and my mom got out of their Prius.

"No," I said. "Don't . . ."

My mother could see through the Mist. I could tell from her expression that she understood how serious things were. I hoped she would have the sense to run. But she locked eyes with me, said something to Paul, and they ran straight toward us.

I couldn't call out. The last thing I wanted to do was bring her to Kronos's attention.

Fortunately, Hades caused a distraction. He charged at the wall of force, but his chariot crashed against it and overturned. He got to his feet, cursing, and blasted the wall with black energy. The barrier held.

"ATTACK!" he roared.

The armies of the dead clashed with the Titan's monsters. Fifth Avenue exploded into absolute chaos.

Mortals screamed and ran for cover. Demeter waved her hand and an entire column of giants turned into a wheat field. Persephone changed the dracaenae's spears into sunflowers. Nico slashed and hacked his way through the enemy, trying to protect the pedestrians as best he could. My parents ran toward me, dodging monsters and zombies, but there was nothing I could do to help them. 

"Nakamura," Kronos said. "Attend me. Giants—deal with them."

He pointed at my friends and me. Then he ducked into the lobby.

For a second I was stunned. I'd been expecting a fight, but Kronos completely ignored me like I wasn't worth the trouble. That made me mad.

The first Hyperborean giant smashed at me with his club. I rolled between his legs and stabbed Riptide into his backside. He shattered into a pile of ice shards. The second giant breathed frost at Annabeth, who was barely able to stand, but Grover pulled her out of the way while Thalia went to work. She sprinted up the giant's back like a gazelle, sliced her hunting knives across his monstrous blue neck, and created the world's largest headless ice sculpture.

I glanced outside the magic barrier. Nico was fighting his way toward my mom and Paul, but they weren't waiting for help. Paul grabbed a sword from a fallen hero and did a pretty fine job keeping a dracaena busy. He stabbed her in the gut, and she disintegrated. 

"Mom!" I yelled.

She whirled when the monster was almost on top of her. I thought the thing in her hands was an umbrella until she cranked the pump and the shotgun blast blew the giant twenty feet backward, right into Nico's sword.

"Nice one," Paul said.

"When did you learn to fire a shotgun?" I demanded.

My mom blew the hair out of her face. "About two seconds ago. Percy, we'll be fine. Go!"

"Yes," Nico agreed, "we'll handle the army. You have to get Kronos!"

He pointed to the hearth, and the coals glowed. A sheet of white smoke poured from the fire, forming images like an Iris-message. I saw Nico and my parents down on Fifth Avenue, fighting a hopeless battle, ringed in enemies. In the background Hades fought from his black chariot, summoning wave after wave of zombies out of the ground, but the forces of the Titan's army seemed just as endless. Meanwhile, Manhattan was being destroyed. Mortals, now fully awake, were running in terror. Cars swerved and crashed. 

Nico di Angelo came into Olympus to a hero's welcome, his father right behind him, despite the fact that Hades was only supposed to visit Olympus on winter solstice. The god of the dead looked stunned when his relatives clapped him on the back. I doubt he'd ever gotten such an enthusiastic welcome before. 

Zeus had taken his throne. He glared across the room at my dad while all the other gods filed in and took their seats. Even Hades was present, sitting on a simple stone guest chair at the foot of the hearth. Nico sat cross-legged on the ground at his dad's feet. 

The lord of the dead nodded. He had a smug look on his face, but I figure he'd earned the right. He patted his son Nico on the shoulders, and Nico looked happier than I'd ever seen him. 

"No, my lord," I said quickly. "But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that. No unclaimed demigods will be crammed into the Hermes cabin anymore, wondering who their parents are. They'll have their own cabins, for all the gods. And no more pact of the Big Three. That didn't work anyway. You've got to stop trying to get rid of powerful demigods. We're going to train them and accept them instead. All children of the gods will be welcome and treated with respect. That is my wish." 

But the life of a demigod is never so easy. Just then Nico ran in from the street, and his face told me something was wrong.

"It's Rachel," he said. "I just ran into her down on 32nd Street."

Annabeth frowned. "What's she done this time?"

"It's where she's gone," Nico said. "I told her she would die if she tried, but she insisted. She just took Blackjack and—"

"She took my pegasus?" I demanded.

Nico nodded. "She's heading to Half-Blood Hill. She said she had to get to camp." 

"We've got to hurry." I glanced at Nico. "I don't suppose you could conjure up some skeleton horses."

He wheezed as he ran. "So tired . . . couldn't summon a dog bone." 

In no time, Annabeth, Nico, and I were zipping up the East River faster than Jet Skis. We sped under the Throgs Neck Bridge and headed for Long Island Sound. 

Rachel collapsed and curled into the fetal position. Annabeth, Nico, and I rushed forward, but Apollo said, "Stop! This is the most delicate part."

"What's going on?" I demanded. "What do you mean?"

Apollo studied Rachel with concern. "Either the spirit takes hold, or it doesn't."

"And if it doesn't?" Annabeth asked.

"Five syllables," Apollo said, counting them on his fingers. "That would be real bad."

Despite Apollo's warning, I ran forward and knelt over Rachel. The smell of the attic was gone. The Mist sank into the ground and the green light faded. But Rachel was still pale. She was barely breathing. Then her eyes fluttered open. She focused on me with difficulty. "Percy."

"Are you okay?"

She tried to sit up. "Ow." She pressed her hands to her temples.

"Rachel," Nico said, "your life aura almost faded completely. I could see you dying." 

_"Seven half-bloods shall answer the call._   
_To storm or fire, the world must fall._   
_An oath to keep with a final breath,_   
_And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death."_

At the last word, Rachel collapsed. Nico and I caught her and helped her to the porch. Her skin was feverish. 

Mrs. O'Leary romped around happily, eating everybody's table scraps. Nico sat at the main table with Chiron and Mr. D, and nobody seemed to think this was out of place. Everybody was patting Nico on the back, complimenting him on his fighting. Even the Ares kids seemed to think he was pretty cool. Hey, show up with an army of undead warriors to save the day, and suddenly you're everybody's best friend. 

I brushed the cake off my hands. "When I was at the River Styx, turning invulnerable . . . Nico said I had to concentrate on one thing that kept me anchored to the world, that made me want to stay mortal." 

Nico had some undead builders working on the Hades cabin. Even though he was still the only kid in it, it was going to look pretty cool: solid obsidian walls with a skull over the door and torches that burned with green fire twenty-four hours a day. Next to that were the cabins of Iris, Nemesis, Hecate, and several others I didn't recognize. They kept adding new ones to the blueprints every day. It was going so well, Annabeth and Chiron were talking about adding an entirely new wing of cabins just so they could have enough room. 


	4. The Lost Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will do this book even though Nico is only mentioned twice.

“Tried to avoid it?”

“Sometimes they … um, cheated. I’ve got a friend, Thalia  Grace, who’s the daughter of Zeus. But she gave up camp life  and became a Hunter of Artemis. My boyfriend, Percy, he’s a  son of Poseidon. And there’s a kid who shows up sometimes,  Nico—son of Hades. Except for them, there are no demigod  children of the Big Three gods. At least, not that we know of.”

“I didn’t find Percy,” she announced. Her voice caught a  little when she said his name. “He wasn’t at the Grand Canyon  like I thought. But we’re not giving up. We’ve got teams everywhere. Grover, Tyson, Nico, the Hunters of Artemis —everyone’s out looking. We will find him. Chiron’s talking  about something different. A new quest.”


	5. The Son of Neptune

“Don’t underestimate him. Reyna’s not so bad by herself, but if Octavian shares her power…” Hazel shuddered. “Let’s go see my brother. He’ll want to meet you.”

Percy didn’t argue. He wanted to meet this mysterious brother, maybe learn something about Hazel’s background—who her dad was, what secret she was hiding. Percy couldn’t believe she’d done anything to be guilty about. She seemed too nice. But Octavian had acted like he had some first-class dirt on her.

Hazel led Percy to a black crypt built into the side of the hill. Standing in front was a teenage boy in black jeans and an aviator jacket.

“Hey,” Hazel called. “I’ve brought a friend.”

The boy turned. Percy had another one of those weird flashes: like this was somebody he should know. The kid was almost as pale as Octavian, but with dark eyes and messy black hair. He didn’t look anything like Hazel. He wore a silver skull ring, a chain for a belt, and a black Tshirt with skull designs. At his side hung a pure-black sword. For a microsecond when he saw Percy, the boy seemed shocked—panicked even, like he’d been caught in a searchlight.

“This is Percy Jackson,” Hazel said. “He’s a good guy. Percy, this is my brother, the son of Pluto.”

The boy regained his composure and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you,” he said. “I’m Nico di Angelo.”

Hazel felt like she'd just introduced two nuclear bombs. Now she was waiting to see which one exploded first.

Until that morning, her brother Nico had been the most powerful demigod she knew. The others at Camp Jupiter saw him as a traveling oddball, about as harmless as the fauns. Hazel knew better. She hadn’t grown up with Nico, hadn’t even known him very long. But she knew Nico was more dangerous than Reyna, or Octavian, or maybe even Jason.

Then she’d met Percy.

At first, when she saw him stumbling up the highway with the old lady in his arms, Hazel had thought he might be a god in disguise. Even though he was beat up, dirty, and stooped with exhaustion, he’d had an aura of power. He had the good looks of a Roman god, with sea-green eyes and wind blown black hair.

She’d ordered Frank not to fire on him. She thought the gods might be testing them. She’d heard myths like that: a kid with an old lady begs for shelter, and when the rude mortals refuse—boom, they get turned into banana slugs.

Then Percy had controlled the river and destroyed the gorgons. He’d turned a pen into a bronze sword. He’d stirred up the whole camp with talk about the graecus.

A son of the sea god...

Long ago, Hazel had been told that a descendant of Neptune would save her. But could Percy really take away her curse? It seemed too much to hope for.

Percy and Nico shook hands. They studied each other warily, and Hazel fought the urge to run. If these two busted out the magic swords, things could get ugly.

Nico didn’t appear scary. He was skinny and sloppy in his rumpled black clothes. His hair, as always, looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. Hazel remembered when she’d met him. The first time she’d seen him draw that black sword of his, she’d almost laughed. The way he called it “Stygian iron,” all serious-like—he’d looked ridiculous. This scrawny white boy was no fighter. She certainly hadn’t believed they were related.

She had changed her mind about that quick enough.

Percy scowled. “I—I know you.”

Nico raised his eyebrows. “Do you?” He looked at Hazel for explanation.

Hazel hesitated. Something about her brother’s reaction wasn’t right. He was trying hard to act casual, but when he had first seen Percy, Hazel had noticed his momentary look of panic. Nico already knew Percy. She was sure of it. Why was he pretending otherwise? Hazel forced herself to speak. “Um…Percy’s lost his memory.” She told her brother what had happened since Percy had arrived at the gates.

“So, Nico…” she continued carefully, “I thought…you know, you travel all over. Maybe you’ve met demigods like Percy before, or...”

Nico’s expression turned as dark as Tartarus. Hazel didn’t understand why, but she got the message: Drop it.

“This story about Gaea’s army,” Nico said. “You warned Reyna?”

Percy nodded. “Who is Gaea, anyway?”

Hazel’s mouth went dry. Just hearing that name…It was all she could do to keep her knees from buckling. She remembered a woman’s soft sleepy voice, a glowing cave, and feeling her lungs fill with black oil.

“She’s the earth goddess.” Nico glanced at the ground as if it might be listening. “The oldest goddess of all. She’s in a deep sleep most of the time, but she hates the gods and their children.”

“Mother Earth…is evil?” Percy asked.

“Very,” Nico said gravely. “She convinced her son, the Titan Kronos—um, I mean, Saturn—to kill his dad, Uranus, and take over the world. The Titans ruled for a long time. Then the Titans’ children, the Olympian gods, overthrew them.”

“That story seems familiar,” Percy sounded surprised, like an old memory had partially surfaced. “But I don’t think I ever heard the part about Gaea.”

Nico shrugged. “She got mad when the gods took over. She took a new husband—Tartarus, the spirit of the abyss—and gave birth to a race of giants. They tried to destroy Mount Olympus, but the gods finally beat them. At least…the first time.”

“The first time?” Percy repeated.

Nico glanced at Hazel. He probably wasn’t meaning to make her feel guilty, but she couldn’t help it. If Percy knew the truth about her, and the horrible things she’d done…

“Last summer,” Nico continued, “Saturn tried to make a comeback. There was a second Titan war. The Romans at Camp Jupiter stormed his headquarters on Mount Othrys, across the bay, and destroyed his throne. Saturn disappeared—” He hesitated, watching Percy’s face. Hazel got the feeling her brother was nervous that more of Percy’s memory might come back.

“Um, anyway,” Nico continued, “Saturn probably faded back to the abyss. We all thought the war was over. Now it looks like the Titans’ defeat stirred up Gaea. She’s starting to wake. I’ve heard reports of giants being reborn. If they mean to challenge the gods again, they’ll probably start by destroying the demigods.…”

“You’ve told Reyna this?” Percy asked.

“Of course.” Nico’s jaw tensed. “The Romans don’t trust me. That’s why Iwas hoping she’d listen to you. Children of Pluto…well, no offense, but they think we’re even worse than children of Neptune. We’re bad luck.”

“They let Hazel stay here,” Percy noted.

“That’s different,” Nico said.

“Why?”

“Percy,” Hazel cut in, “look, the giants aren’t the worst problem. Even ... even Gaea isn’t the worst problem. The thing you noticed about the gorgons, how they wouldn’t die, that’s our biggest worry.” She looked at Nico. She was getting dangerously close to her own secret now, but for some reason Hazel trusted Percy. Maybe because he was also an outsider, maybe because he’d saved Frank at the river. He deserved to know what they were facing.

“Nico and I,” she said carefully, “we think that what’s happening is…Death isn’t—”

Before she could finish, a shout came from down the hill.

Frank jogged toward them, wearing his jeans, purple camp shirt, and denim jacket. His hands were covered with grease from cleaning weapons.

As it did every time she saw Frank, Hazel’s heart performed a little skip-beat tap-dance—which really irritated her. Sure, he was a good friend —one of the only people at camp who didn’t treat her as if she had a contagious disease. But she didn’t like him in that way.

He was three years older than she was, and he wasn’t exactly Prince Charming, with that strange combination of baby face and bulky wrestler’s body. He looked like a cuddly koala bear with muscles. The fact that everyone always tried to pair them up—the two biggest losers at camp! You guys are perfect for each other—just made Hazel more determined not to like him.

But her heart wasn’t with the program. It went nuts whenever Frank was around. She hadn’t felt like that since ... well, since Sammy.

 _Stop it_ , she thought. _You’re here for one reason—and it isn’t to get a new boyfriend._

Besides, Frank didn’t know her secret. If he knew, he wouldn’t be so nice to her.

He reached the shrine. “Hey, Nico…”

“Frank.” Nico smiled. He seemed to find Frank amusing, maybe because Frank was the only one at camp who wasn’t uneasy around the children of Pluto.

“Reyna sent me to get Percy,” Frank said. “Did Octavian accept you?”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “He slaughtered my panda.”

“He…Oh. The augury? Yeah, teddy bears must have nightmares about that guy. But you’re in! We need to get you cleaned up before evening muster.”

Hazel realized the sun was getting low over the hills. How had the day gone so fast? “You’re right,” she said. “We’d better—”

“Frank,” Nico interrupted, “why don’t you take Percy down? Hazel and Iwill be along soon.”

Uh-oh, Hazel thought. She tried not to look anxious.

“That’s—that’s a good idea,” she managed. “Go ahead, guys. We’ll catch up.”

Percy looked at Nico one more time, as though he was still trying to place a memory. “I’d like to talk with you some more. I can’t shake the feeling—”

“Sure,” Nico agreed. “Later. I’ll be staying overnight.”

“You will?” Hazel blurted. The campers were going to love that—the son of Neptune and the son of Pluto arriving on the same day. Now all they needed was some black cats and broken mirrors.

“Go on, Percy,” Nico said. “Settle in.” He turned to Hazel, and she got the sense that the worst part of her day was yet to come. “My sister and I need to talk.”

“You know him, don’t you,” Hazel said.

They sat on the roof of Pluto’s shrine, which was covered with bones and diamonds. As far as Hazel knew, the bones had always been there. The diamonds were her fault. If she sat anywhere too long, or just got anxious, they started popping up all around her like mushrooms after a rain. Several million dollars’ worth of stones glittered on the roof, but fortunately the other campers wouldn’t touch them. They knew better than to steal from temples—especially Pluto’s—and the fauns never came up here.

Hazel shuddered, remembering her close call with Don that afternoon. If she hadn’t moved quickly and snatched that diamond off the road… She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t need another death on her conscience.

Nico swung his feet like a little kid. His Stygian iron sword lay by his side, next to Hazel’s spatha. He gazed across the valley, where construction crews were working in the Field of Mars, building fortifications for tonight’s games.

“Percy Jackson.” He said the name like an incantation. “Hazel, I have to be careful what I say. Important things are at work here. Some secrets need to stay secret. You of all people—you should understand that.”

Hazel’s cheeks felt hot. “But he’s not like…like me?”

“No,” Nico said. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. I can’t interfere. Percy has to find his own way at this camp.”

“Is he dangerous?” she asked.

Nico managed a dry smile. “Very. To his enemies. But he’s not a threat to Camp Jupiter. You can trust him.”

“Like I trust you,” Hazel said bitterly.

Nico twisted his skull ring. Around him, bones began to quiver as if they were trying to form a new skeleton. Whenever he got moody, Nico had that effect on the dead, kind of like Hazel’s curse. Between them, they represented Pluto’s two spheres of control: death and riches. Sometimes Hazel thought Nico had gotten the better end of the deal.

“Look, I know this is hard,” Nico said. “But you have a second chance. You can make things right.”

“Nothing about this is right,” Hazel said. “If they find out the truth about me—”

“They won’t,” Nico promised. “They’ll call a quest soon. They have to. You’ll make me proud. Trust me, Bi—”

He caught himself, but Hazel knew what he’d almost called her: Bianca. Nico’s real sister—the one he’d grown up with. Nico might care about Hazel, but she’d never be Bianca. Hazel was the simply the next best thing Nico could manage—a consolation prize from the Underworld.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Hazel’s mouth tasted like metal, as if gold nuggets were popping up under her tongue. “Then it’s true about Death? Is Alcyoneus to blame?”

“I think so,” Nico said. “It’s getting bad in the Underworld. Dad’s going crazy trying to keep things under control. From what Percy said about the gorgons, things are getting worse up here, too. But look, that’s why you’re here. All that stuff in your past—you can make something good come out of it. You belong at Camp Jupiter.”

That sounded so ridiculous, Hazel almost laughed. She didn’t belong in this place. She didn’t even belong in this century. She should have known better than to focus on the past, but she remembered the day when her old life had been shattered. The blackout hit her so suddenly, she didn’t even have time to say, Uh-oh. She shifted back in time. Not a dream or a vision. The memory washed over her with such perfect clarity, she felt she was actually there.

Her most recent birthday. She’d just turned thirteen. But not last December—December 17, 1941, the last day she had lived in New Orleans.

Nico was shaking her shoulders. “You did it again.”

Hazel blinked. They were still sitting on the roof of Pluto’s shrine. The sun was lower in the sky. More diamonds had surfaced around her, and her eyes stung from crying.

“S-sorry,” she murmured.

“Don’t be,” Nico said. “Where were you?”

“My mother’s apartment. The day we moved.”

Nico nodded. He understood her history better than most people could. He was also a kid from the 1940s. He’d been born only a few years after Hazel, and had been locked away in a magic hotel for decades. But Hazel’s past was much worse than Nico’s. She’d caused so much damage and misery.…

“You have to work on controlling those memories,” Nico warned. “If a flashback like that happens when you’re in combat—”

“I know,” she said. “I’m trying.”

Nico squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. I think it’s a side effect from…you know, your time in the Underworld. Hopefully it’ll get easier.”

Hazel wasn’t so sure. After eight months, the blackouts seemed to be getting worse, as if her soul were attempting to live in two different time periods at once. No one had ever come back from the dead before—at least, not the way she had. Nico was trying to reassure her, but neither of them knew what would happen.

“I can’t go north again,” Hazel said. “Nico, if I have to go back to where it happened—”

“You’ll be fine,” he promised. “You’ll have friends this time. Percy Jackson—he’s got a role to play in this. You can sense that, can’t you? He’s a good person to have at your side.”

Hazel remembered what Pluto told her long ago: A descendant of Neptune will wash away your curse and give you peace.

Was Percy the one? Maybe, but Hazel sensed it wouldn’t be so easy. She wasn’t sure even Percy could survive what was waiting in the north.

“Where did he come from?” she asked. “Why do the ghosts call him the Greek?”

Before Nico could respond, horns blew across the river. The legionnaires were gathering for evening muster.

“We’d better get down there,” Nico said. “I have a feeling tonight’s war games are going to be interesting.”

The gold bar popped out of the ground just in time for her foot to hit it. Nico tried to catch her, but she took a spill and scraped her hands.

“You okay?” Nico knelt next to her and reached for the bar of gold.

“Don’t!” Hazel warned.

Nico froze. “Right. Sorry. It’s just…jeez. That thing is huge.” He pulled a flask of nectar from his aviator jacket and poured a little on Hazel’s hands. Immediately the cuts started to heal. “Can you stand?”

He helped her up. They both stared at the gold. It was the size of a bread loaf, stamped with a serial number and the words u.s. treasury.

Nico shook his head. “How in Tartarus—?”

“I don’t know,” Hazel said miserably. “It could’ve been buried there by robbers or dropped off a wagon a hundred years ago. Maybe it migrated from the nearest bank vault. Whatever’s in the ground, anywhere close to me—it just pops up. And the more valuable it is—”

“The more dangerous it is.” Nico frowned. “Should we cover it up? If the fauns find it…”

Hazel imagined a mushroom cloud billowing up from the road, char-broiled fauns tossed in every direction. It was too horrible to consider. “It should sink back underground after I leave, eventually, but just to be sure…”

She’d been practicing this trick, but never with something so heavy and dense. She pointed at the gold bar and tried to concentrate.

The gold levitated. She channeled her anger, which wasn’t hard—she hated that gold, she hated her curse, she hated thinking about her past and all the ways she’d failed. Her fingers tingled. The gold bar glowed with heat.

Nico gulped. “Um, Hazel, are you sure…?”

She made a fist. The gold bent like putty. Hazel forced it to twist into a giant, lumpy ring. Then she flicked her hand toward the ground. Her million-dollar doughnut slammed into the earth. It sank so deep, nothing was left but a scar of fresh dirt.

Nico’s eyes widened. “That was…terrifying.”

Hazel didn’t think it was so impressive compared to the powers of a guy who could reanimate skeletons and bring people back from the dead, but it felt good to surprise him for a change.

Inside the camp, horns blew again. The cohorts would be starting roll call, and Hazel had no desire to be sewn into a sack of weasels.

“Hurry!” she told Nico, and they ran for the gates.

Hazel and Nico jogged down the street as everyone was coming to attention, so their entrance was really obvious. Their footsteps echoed on the stones. Hazel tried to avoid eye contact, but she caught Octavian at the head of the First Cohort smirking at her, looking smug in his plumed centurion’s helmet with a dozen medals pinned on his chest.

Nico joined Percy Jackson, who was standing off to one side with a couple of guards. Percy’s hair was wet from the baths. He’d put on fresh clothes, but he still looked uncomfortable. Hazel couldn’t blame him. He was about to be introduced to two hundred heavily armed kids.

Hazel waved at Percy, who made his way through the crowd with Nico at his side. To Hazel’s surprise, Nico was beaming at her.

“Good job, Sis,” he said. “That took guts, standing for him.”

He had never called her Sis before. She wondered if that was what he had called Bianca.

As usual, the Fifth Cohort took the place of least honor. Their tables were at the back of the dining hall next to the kitchen. Hazel’s table was always the least crowded. Tonight it was she and Frank, as usual, with Percy and Nico and their centurion Dakota, who sat there, Hazel figured, because he felt obligated to welcome the new recruit.

Dakota reclined glumly on his couch, mixing sugar into his drink and chugging it. He was a beefy guy with curly black hair and eyes that didn’t quite line up straight, so Hazel felt like the world was leaning whenever she looked at him. It wasn’t a good sign that he was drinking so much so early in the night.

“So.” He burped, waving his goblet. “Welcome to the Percy, party.” He frowned. “Party, Percy. Whatever.”

“Um, thanks,” Percy said, but his attention was focused on Nico. “I was wondering if we could talk, you know…about where I might have seen you before.”

“Sure,” Nico said a little too quickly. “The thing is, I spend most of my time in the Underworld. So unless I met you there somehow—”

Dakota belched. “Ambassador from Pluto, they call him. Reyna’s never sure what to do with this guy when he visits. You should have seen her face when he showed up with Hazel, asking Reyna to take her in. Um, no offense.”

“None taken.” Nico seemed relieved to change the topic. “Dakota was really helpful, standing for Hazel.”

Dakota blushed. “Yeah, well…She seemed like a good kid. Turned out I was right. Last month, when she saved me from, uh, you know.”

“Oh, man!” Frank looked up from his fish and chips. “Percy, you should have seen her! That’s how Hazel got her stripe. The unicorns decided to stampede—”

“It was nothing,” Hazel said.

“Nothing?” Frank protested. “Dakota would’ve gotten trampled! You stood right in front of them, shooed them away, saved his hide. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Hazel bit her lip. She didn’t like to talk about it, and she felt uncomfortable, the way Frank made her sound like a hero. In truth, she’d been mostly afraid that the unicorns would hurt themselves in their panic. Their horns were precious metal—silver and gold—so she’d managed to turn them aside simply by concentrating, steering the animals by their horns and guiding them back to the stables. It had gotten her a full place in the legion, but it had also started rumours about her strange powers—rumours that reminded her of the bad old days.

Percy studied her. Those sea-green eyes made her unsettled.

“Did you and Nico grow up together?” he asked.

“No,” Nico answered for her. “I found out that Hazel was my sister only recently. She’s from New Orleans.”

That was true, of course, but not the whole truth. Nico let people think he’d stumbled upon her in modern New Orleans and brought her to camp.

It was easier than telling the real story.

Hazel had tried to pass herself off as a modern kid. It wasn’t easy. Thankfully, demigods didn’t use a lot of technology at camp. Their powers tended to make electronic gadgets go haywire. But the first time she went on furlough to Berkeley, she had nearly had a stroke. Televisions, computers, iPods, the Internet…It made her glad to get back to the world of ghosts, unicorns, and gods. That seemed much less of a fantasy than the twenty-first century.

Nico was still talking about the children of Pluto. “There aren’t many of us,” he said, “so we have to stick together. When I found Hazel—”

“You have other sisters?” Percy asked, almost as if he knew the answer. Hazel wondered again when he and Nico had met, and what her brother was hiding.

“One,” Nico admitted. “But she died. I saw her spirit a few times in the Underworld, except that the last time I went down there...”

To bring her back, Hazel thought, though Nico didn’t say that.

“She was gone.” Nico’s voice turned hoarse. “She used to be in Elysium—like, the Underworld paradise—but she chose to be reborn into a new life. Now I’ll never see her again. I was just lucky to find Hazel…in New Orleans, Imean.”

Dakota grunted. “Unless you believe the rumors. Not saying that I do.”

“Rumors?” Percy asked.

From across the room, Don the faun yelled, “Hazel!”

Hazel had never been so glad to see the faun. He wasn’t allowed in camp, but of course he always managed to get in. He was working his way toward their table, grinning at everybody, sneaking food off plates, and pointing at campers: “Hey! Call me!” A flying pizza smacked him in the head, and he disappeared behind a couch. Then he popped up, still grinning, and made his way over.

“My favorite girl!” He smelled like a wet goat wrapped in old cheese. He leaned over their couches and checked out their food. “Say, new kid, you going to eat that?”

Percy frowned. “Aren’t fauns vegetarian?”

“Not the cheeseburger, man! The plate!” He sniffed Percy’s hair. “Hey…what’s that smell?”

“Don!” Hazel said. “Don’t be rude.”

“No, man, I just—”

Their house god Vitellius shimmered into existence, standing half embedded in Frank’s couch. “Fauns in the dining hall! What are we coming to? Centurion Dakota, do your duty!”

“I am,” Dakota grumbled into his goblet. “I’m having dinner!”

Don was still sniffing around Percy. “Man, you’ve got an empathy link with a faun!”

Percy leaned away from him. “A what?”

“An empathy link! It’s real faint, like somebody’s suppressed it, but—”

“I know what!” Nico stood suddenly. “Hazel, how about we give you and Frank time to get Percy oriented? Dakota and I can visit the praetor’s table. Don and Vitellius, you come too. We can discuss strategies for the war games.”

“Strategies for losing?” Dakota muttered.

“Death Boy is right!” Vitellius said. “This legion fights worse than we did in Judea, and that was the first time we lost our eagle. Why, if I were in charge—”

“Could I just eat the silverware first?” Don asked.

“Let’s go!” Nico stood and grabbed Don and Vitellius by the ears.

Nobody but Nico could actually touch the Lares. Vitellius spluttered with outrage as he was dragged off to the praetor’s table.

“Ow!” Don protested. “Man, watch the ’fro!”

“Come on, Dakota!” Nico called over his shoulder.

The centurion got up reluctantly. He wiped his mouth—uselessly, since it was permanently stained red. “Back soon.” He shook all over, like a dog trying to get dry. Then he staggered away, his goblet sloshing.

“What was that about?” Percy asked. “And what’s wrong with Dakota?”

Frank sighed. “He’s okay. He’s a son of Bacchus, the wine god. He’s got a drinking problem.”

Percy’s eyes widened. “You let him drink wine?”

“Gods, no!” Hazel said. “That would be a disaster. He’s addicted to red Kool-Aid. Drinks it with three times the normal sugar, and he’s already ADHD—you know, attention deficit/hyperactive. One of these days, his head is going to explode.”

Percy looked over at the praetor’s table. Most of the senior officers were in deep conversation with Reyna. Nico and his two captives, Don and Vitellius, stood on the periphery. Dakota was running back and forth along a line of stacked shields, banging his goblet on them like they were a xylophone.

Walking back, Percy had asked tons of questions about Hazel’s brother, Nico, but Frank didn’t know that much.

“He’s okay,” Frank said. “He’s not like Hazel—”

“How do you mean?” Percy asked.

“Oh, um…” Frank coughed. He’d meant that Hazel was better looking and nicer, but he decided not to say that. “Nico is kind of mysterious. He makes everybody else nervous, being the son of Pluto, and all.”

Half a dozen giant eagles flew in formation behind her—prepared for ambulance airlift duty if necessary. The only person not participating in the game was Nico di Angelo, “Pluto’s ambassador,” who had climbed an observation tower about a hundred yards from the fort and would be watching with binoculars.

“Good question.” Reyna turned to Nico, who was watching grimly from the edge of the crowd. “Is this some power of Pluto?”

Nico shook his head. “Pluto never lets people return from the dead.”

He glanced at Hazel as if warning her to stay quiet. Frank wondered what that was about, but he didn’t have time to think about it.

A thunderous voice rolled across the field: Death loses its hold. This is only the beginning.

He pointed at Gwen. “This one should be dead, yet she’s not. The monsters you fight no longer return to Tartarus when they are slain. Some mortals who died long ago are now walking the earth again.”

Was it Frank’s imagination, or did the god glare at Nico di Angelo?

Reyna and Octavian led the procession of senators out of camp, with Reyna’s metal greyhounds dashing back and forth along the road. Hazel, Frank, and Percy trailed behind. Percy noticed Nico di Angelo in the group, wearing a black toga and talking with Gwen, who looked a little pale but surprisingly good considering she’d been dead the night before. Nico waved at Percy, then went back to his conversation, leaving Percy more sure than ever that Hazel’s brother was trying to avoid him.

The senators passed through easily. The statue checked the tattoos on their forearms and called each senator by name. “Gwendolyn, senator, Fifth Cohort, yes. Nico di Angelo, ambassador of Pluto—very well. Reyna, praetor, of course. Hank, senator, Third Cohort—oh, nice shoes, Hank! Ah, who have we here?”

Percy, Hazel, and Frank sat on the left side of the semicircle. The ten senators and Nico di Angelo occupied the rest of the front row. The upper rows were filled with several dozeng hosts and a few older veterans from the city, all in formal togas. Octavian stood in front with a knife and a Beanie Babylion, just in case anyone needed to consult the god of cutesy collectibles. Reyna walked to the podium and raised her hand for attention.

Reyna gripped her podium. “How do you know this, Hazel? Because you’re a child of Pluto?”

Nico di Angelo had been so quiet, Percy had almost forgotten he was there. Now he stood in his black toga.

“Praetor, if I may,” he said. “Hazel and I…we learned a little about the giants from our father. Each giant was bred specifically to oppose one of the twelve Olympian gods—tousurp that god’s domain. The king of giants was Porphyrion, the anti-Jupiter. But the eldest giant was Alcyoneus. He was born to oppose Pluto. That’s why we know of him in particular.”

Reyna frowned. “Indeed? You sound quite familiar with him.”

Nico picked at the edge of his toga. “Anyway…the giants were hard to kill. According to prophecy, they could only be defeated by gods and demigods working together.”

Dakota belched. “Sorry, did you say gods and demigods…like fighting side by side? That could never happen!”

“It has happened,” Nico said. “In the first giant war, the gods called on heroes to join them, and they were victorious. Whether it could happen again, I don’t know. But with Alcyoneus ... he was different. He was completely immortal, impossible to kill by god or demigod, as long as he remained in his home territory—the place where he was born.” Nico paused to let that sink in. “And if Alcyoneus has been reborn in Alaska—”

“Then he can’t be defeated there,” Hazel finished. “Ever. By any means. Which is why our nineteen-eighties expedition was doomed to fail.”

Another round of arguing and shouting broke out.

“First, I need to understand something.” He turned toward Nico. “I thought Pluto was the god of the dead. Now I hear about this other guy, Thanatos, and the Doors of Death from that prophecy—the Prophecy of Seven. What does all that mean?”

Nico took a deep breath. “Okay. Pluto is the god of the Underworld, but the actual god of death, the one who’s responsible for making sure souls go to the afterlife and stay there—that’s Pluto’s lieutenant, Thanatos. He’s like…well, imagine Life and Death are two different countries. Everybody would like to be in Life, right? So there’s a guarded border to keep people from crossing back over without permission. But it’s a big border, with lots of holes in the fence. Pluto tries to seal up the breaches, but new ones keep popping up all the time. That’s why he depends on Thanatos, who’s like the border patrol, the police.”

“Thanatos catches souls,” Percy said, “and deports them back to the Underworld.”

“Exactly,” Nico said. “But now Thanatos has been captured, chained up.”

Frank raised his hand. “Uh…how do you chain Death?”

“It’s been done before,” Nico said. “In the old days, a guy named Sisyphus tricked Death and tied him up. Another time, Hercules wrestled him to the ground.”

“And now a giant has captured him,” Percy said. “So if we could free Thanatos, then the dead would stay dead?” He glanced at Gwen. “Um… no offense.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Nico said.

Octavian rolled his eyes. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“You mean the Doors of Death,” Reyna said, ignoring Octavian. “They are mentioned in the Prophecy of Seven, which sent the first expedition to Alaska—”

Cato the ghost snorted. “We all know how that turned out! We Lares remember!”

The other ghosts grumbled in agreement.

Nico put his finger to his lips. Suddenly all the Lares went silent. Some looked alarmed, like their mouths had been glued together. Percy wished he had that power over certain living people…like Octavian, for instance.

“Thanatos is only part of the solution,” Nico explained. “The Doors of Death…well, that’s a concept even I don’t completely understand. There are many ways into the Underworld—the River Styx, the Door of Orpheus—plussmaller escape routes that open up from time to time. With Thanatos imprisoned, all those exits will be easier to use. Sometimes it might work to our advantage and let a friendly soul come back—like Gwen here. More often, it will benefit evil souls and monsters, the sneaky ones who are looking to escape. Now, the Doors of Death—those are the personal doors of Thanatos, his fast lane between Life and Death. Only Thanatos is supposed to know where they are, and the location shifts over the ages. If I understand correctly, the Doors of Death have been forced open. Gaea’s minions have seized control of them—”

“Which means Gaea controls who can come back from the dead,” Percy guessed.

Nico nodded. “She can pick and choose who to let out—the worst monsters, the most evil souls. If we rescue Thanatos, that means at least he can catch souls again and send them below. Monsters will die when we kill them, like they used to, and we’ll get a little breathing room. But unless we’re able to retake the Doors of Death, our enemies won’t stay down for long. They’ll have an easy way back to the world of the living.”

“So we can catch them and deport them,” Percy summed up, “but they’ll just keep coming back across.”

“In a depressing nutshell, yes,” Nico said.

Frank scratched his head. “But Thanatos knows where the doors are, right? If we free him, he can retake them.”

“I don’t think so,” Nico said. “Not alone. He’s no match for Gaea. That would take a massive quest…an army of the best demigods.”

“Foes bear arms to the Doors of Death,” Reyna said. “That’s the Prophecy of Seven…” She looked at Percy, and for just a moment he could see how scared she was. She did a good job of hiding it, but Percy wondered if she’d had nightmares about Gaea too—if she’d seen visions of what would happen when the camp was invaded by monsters that couldn’t be killed. “If this begins the ancient prophecy, we don’t have resources to send an army to these Doors of Death and protect the camp. I can’t imagine even sparing seven demigods—”

Then her thoughts turned to Nico. Before they had left, her brother had pulled her aside to wish her luck. Hazel hoped he’d stay at Camp Jupiter to help defend it, but he said he’d be leaving today—heading back to the Underworld.

“Dad needs all the help he can get,” he said. “The Fields of Punishment look like a prison riot. The Furies can barely keep order. Besides…I’m going to try to track some of the escaping souls. Maybe I can find the Doors of Death from the other side.”

“Be careful,” Hazel said. “If Gaea is guarding those doors—”

“Don’t worry.” Nico smiled. “I know how to stay hidden. Just take care of yourself. The closer you get to Alaska…I’m not sure if it’ll make the blackouts better or worse.”

 _Take care of myself,_ Hazel thought bitterly. _As if there was any way the quest would end well for her._

“If we free Thanatos,” Hazel told Nico, “Imay never see you again. Thanatos will send me back to the Underworld.…”

Nico took her hand. His fingers were so pale, it was hard to believe Hazel and he shared the same godly father.

“I wanted to give you a chance at Elysium,” he said. “That was the best I could do for you. But now, I wish there was another way. I don’t want to lose my sister.”

He didn’t say the word again, but Hazel knew that’s what he was thinking. For once, she didn’t feel jealous of Bianca di Angelo. She just wished that she had more time with Nico and her friends at camp. She didn’t want to die a second time.

“Good luck, Hazel,” he said. Then he melted into the shadows—just like her father had seventy years before.

“I try to hide it,” she admitted. “I’ve been lucky so far, but it’s getting worse. It’s not medical…not really. Nico says it’s a side effect from my past, from where he found me.”

Percy’s intense green eyes were hard to read. She couldn’t tell whether he was concerned or wary.

“Where exactly did Nico find you?” he asked.

Hazel’s tongue felt like cotton. She was afraid if she started talking, she’d slip back into the past, but they deserved to know. If she failed them on this quest, zonked out when they needed her most…she couldn’t bear that idea.

Percy wasn’t surprised that she had come back from the Underworld. He’d suspected that for a while—the way she avoided talking about her past, the way Nico di Angelo had been so secretive and cautious.

She felt her pulse throbbing in her neck. “It wasn’t bravery. I let my mother die. I cooperated with Gaea too long. I almost let her win.”

“Hazel,” said Percy. “You stood up to a goddess all by yourself. You did the right…” His voice trailed off, as if he’d had an unpleasant thought. “What happened in the Underworld…Imean, after you died? You should’ve gone to Elysium. But if Nico brought you back—”

“I didn’t go to Elysium.” Her mouth felt dry as sand. “Please don’t ask…”

Hazel had almost forgotten she was reliving her past. Nicodi Angelo stood over her in his black overcoat, his Stygian iron sword at his side. He didn’t notice Frank, but he locked eyes with Hazel and seemed to read her whole life.

“You’re different,” he said. “A child of Pluto. You remember your past.”

“Yes,” Hazel said. “And you’re alive.”

Nico studied her like he was reading a menu, deciding whether or not to order.

“I’m Nico di Angelo,” he said. “I came looking for my sister. Death has gone missing, so I thought…I thought I could bring her back and no one would notice.”

“Back to life?” Hazel asked. “Is that possible?”

“It should have been.” Nico sighed. “But she’s gone. She chose to be reborn into a new life. I’m too late.”

“I’m sorry.”

He held out his hand. “You’re my sister too. You deserve another chance. Come with me.

“You are an illusion, Hazel Levesque. You were only brought back to life because the gods have a task for you. I may have used you, but Nico used you and lied about it. You should be glad I captured him.”

“Captured?” A feeling of panic rose in Hazel’s chest. “What do you mean?”

Gaea smiled, sipping her champagne. “The boy should have known better than to search for the Doors. But no matter—it’s not really your concern. Once you release Thanatos, you’ll be thrown back into the Underworld to rot forever. Frank and Percy won’t stop that from happening. Would real friends ask you to give up your life? Tell me who is lying, and who tells you the truth.”

Hazel couldn’t feel her hands. She wasn’t sure if she was cold or in shock, but she managed to explain about the muskeg, and the vision she’d seen while she was under. Not the part about Sammy—that was still too painful to say out loud—but she told them about Gaea’s offer of a fake life, and the goddess’ claim that she’d captured her brother Nico. Hazel didn’t want to keep that to herself. She was afraid the despair would overwhelm her.

Percy rubbed his shoulders. His lips were blue. “You—you saved me, Hazel. We’ll figure out what happened to Nico, I promise.”

Hazel squinted at the sun, which was now high in the sky.

Hazel picked up an old valentine. The lacy white paper fell apart in her hands. “I don’t belong in this century. Nico only brought me back so I could correct my mistakes, maybe get into Elysium.”

Hazel shivered. She was afraid it would speak to her like the other raven, so many years ago: The last night. Tonight. She wondered if ravens always appeared to children of Pluto when they were about to die. She hoped Nico was still alive, and Gaea had just been lying to make her unsettled. Hazel had a bad feeling that the goddess was telling the truth.

Nico had told her that he’d search for the Doors of Death from the other side. If he’d been captured by Gaea’s forces, Hazel might’ve lost the only family she had.

“What about my brother?” she asked. “Is Nico alive?”

Thanatos gave her a strange look—possibly pity, though that didn’t seem like an emotion Death would understand. “You will find the answer in Rome. And now I must fly south to your Camp Jupiter. I have a feeling there will be many souls to reap, very soon. Farewell, demigods, until we meet again.”

Percy knew that giants couldn’t die unless demigods and gods fought them together. Nico had told him that. Annabeth had mentioned it too, back in August, when she’d speculated that the giants might be part of the new Great Prophecy—what the Romans called the Prophecy of Seven. (That was the downside of dating the smartest girl at camp: You learn stuff.)

Hazel made a squeaking sound. “You have a hellhound named Mrs. O’Leary?”“Long story.” Percy managed to get to his feet and wipe off the dog slobber. “You can ask your brother…”

His voice wavered when he saw Hazel’s expression. He’d almost forgotten that Nico di Angelo was missing.

Hazel had told him what Thanatos had said about searching for the Doors of Death in Rome, and Percy was anxious to find Nico for his own reasons—to wring the kid’s neck for having pretended he didn’t know Percy when he first came to camp. Still, he was Hazel’s brother, and finding him was a conversation for another time.

Hazel shrugged. “Pluto can’t visit me or even talk to me without acknowledging I’m alive. Then he’d have to enforce the laws of death and have Thanatos bring me back to the Underworld. I think my dad is turning a blind eye. I think—I think he wants me to find Nico.”

Percy glanced at the sunrise, hoping to see a warship descending from the sky. So far, nothing.

“We’ll find your brother,” Percy promised. “As soon as the ship gets here, we’ll sail for Rome.”


	6. Mark of Athena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember when everyone thought Nico was straight?

Hazel, the girl with the cavalry helmet and the long curly hair, picked up something next to her  plate. It looked like a large ruby; but before Annabeth could be sure, Hazel slipped it into the pocket  of her denim shirt.

“My brother, Nico, went looking for the doors,” she said.

“Wait,” Annabeth said. “Nico di Angelo? He’s your brother?”

Hazel nodded as if this were obvious. A dozen more questions crowded into Annabeth’s head, but  it was already spinning like Leo’s pinwheel. She decided to let the matter go. “Okay. You were  saying?”

“He disappeared.” Hazel moistened her lips. “I’m afraid…I’m not sure, but I think something’s  happened to him.”

“We’ll look for him,” Percy promised. “We have to find the Doors of Death anyway. Thanatos  told us we’d find both answers in Rome—like, the original Rome. That’s on the way to Greece, right?”

Nemesis popped a cookie in her mouth and swallowed it, fortune and all. “You’ll see. Perhaps they  will teach you a lesson, Hazel Levesque. Most heroes cannot escape their nature, even when given a  second chance at life.” She smiled. “And speaking of your brother Nico, you don’t have much time.  Let’s see…it’s June twenty-fifth? Yes, after today, six more days. Then he dies, along with the entire  city of Rome.”

“I suppose you won’t tell us what you’re talking about,” Hazel muttered. “Or why my brother Nico  has only six days to live. Or why Rome is going to be destroyed.”

Hazel blinked like she’d gotten salt in her eyes. “Nico…he found me in the Underworld. He  brought me back to the mortal world and convinced the Romans at Camp Jupiter to accept me. I owe  him for my second chance at life. If Nemesis is right, and Nico’s in danger…I have to help him.”

“Sure,” Leo said, though the idea made him uneasy. He doubted the revenge goddess ever gave  advice out of the goodness of her heart. “And what Nemesis said about your brother having six days to  live, and Rome getting destroyed…any idea what she meant?”

Hazel nodded. “Nemesis said we have only six days until Nico dies and Rome is destroyed.”

Piper couldn’t shake the feeling that Bacchus was meant to help them. The giant twins were in  Rome. They were keeping something the demigods needed—something in that bronze jar. Whatever  it was, she got the feeling it held the answer to sealing the Doors of Death—the key to endless death.  She also felt sure they could never defeat the giants without Bacchus’s help. And if they couldn’t do  that in five days, Rome would be destroyed, and Hazel’s brother, Nico, would die.

The air in the jar smelled of stale breath and tarnished metal. The only light came from the dim

purple glow of a dark sword, its Stygian iron blade set against one side of the container. Huddled next  to it was a dejected-looking boy in tattered jeans, a black shirt, and an old aviator jacket. On his right  hand, a silver skull ring glittered.

“Nico,” Percy called. But the son of Hades couldn’t hear him.

The container was completely sealed. The air was turning poisonous. Nico’s eyes were closed, his  breathing shallow. He appeared to be meditating. His face was pale, and thinner than Percy  remembered.

On the inner wall of the jar, it looked as though Nico had scratched three hash marks with his  sword—maybe it had been three days that he’d been imprisoned?

It didn’t seem possible he could have survived so long without suffocating. Even in a dream, Percy  was already starting to feel panicky, struggling to get enough oxygen.

Then he noticed something between Nico’s feet—a small collection of glistening objects no bigger  than baby teeth.

Seeds, Percy realized. Pomegranate seeds. Three had been eaten and spit out. Five were still  encased in dark red pulp.

“Nico,” Percy said, “where is this place? We’ll save you.… 

Even the most troubling parts didn’t seem to surprise her. She shook her head sadly when he

described Nico’s imprisonment in the bronze jar. She got an angry glint in her eyes when he told her  about the giants planning some sort of Rome-destroying extravaganza that would include their painful  deaths as the opening event.

“Nico is the bait,” she murmured. “Gaea’s forces must have captured him somehow. But we don’t  know exactly where they’re holding him.”

“Somewhere in Rome,” Percy said. “Somewhere underground. They made it sound like Nico still  had a few days to live, but I don’t see how he could hold out so long with no oxygen.”

“Five more days, according to Nemesis,” Annabeth said. “The Kalends of July. At least the  deadline makes sense now.”

“What’s a Kalends?”

Annabeth smirked, like she was pleased they were back in their old familiar pattern—Percy being ignorant, she herself explaining stuff. “It’s just the Roman term for the first of the month. That’s where we get the word calendar. But how can Nico survive that long? We should talk to Hazel.”

“Right,” Percy said. “No more talk about Gaea rising, Nico being held hostage, the world ending,  the giants—”

He told them about his dream—the twin giants planning a reception for them in an underground

parking lot with rocket launchers; Nico di Angelo trapped in a bronze jar, slowly dying from  asphyxiation with pomegranate seeds at his feet.

Hazel choked back a sob. “Nico… Oh, gods. The seeds.”

“You know what they are?” Annabeth asked.

Hazel nodded. “He showed them to me once. They’re from our stepmother’s garden.”

“Your step… oh,” Percy said. “You mean Persephone.”

Percy had met the wife of Hades once. She hadn’t been exactly warm and sunny. He had also been  to her Underworld garden—a creepy place full of crystal trees and flowers that bloomed bloodred and  ghost white.

“The seeds are a last-resort food,” Hazel said. Percy could tell she was nervous, because all the  silverware on the table was starting to move toward her. “Only children of Hades can eat them. Nico  always kept some in case he got stuck somewhere. But if he’s really imprisoned—”

“The giants are trying to lure us,” Annabeth said. “They’re assuming we’ll try to rescue him.”

“Well, they’re right!” Hazel looked around the table, her confidence apparently crumbling. “Won’t  we?”

“Yes!” Coach Hedge yelled with a mouthful of napkins. “It’ll involve fighting, right?”

“Hazel, of course we’ll help him,” Frank said. “But how long do we have before… uh, I mean, how  long can Nico hold out?”

“One seed a day,” Hazel said miserably. “That’s if he puts himself in a death trance.”

“A death trance?” Annabeth scowled. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

“It keeps him from consuming all his air,” Hazel said. “Like hibernation, or a coma. One seed can  sustain him one day, barely.”

“And he has five seeds left,” Percy said. “That’s five days, including today. The giants must have  planned it that way, so we’d have to arrive by July first. Assuming Nico is hidden somewhere in  Rome—”

“That’s not much time,” Piper summed up. She put her hand on Hazel’s shoulder. “We’ll find  him. At least we know what the lines of the prophecy mean now. ‘Twins snuff out the angel’s breath,  who holds the key to endless death.’ Your brother’s last name: di Angelo. Angelo is Italian for ‘angel.’”

“Oh, gods,” Hazel muttered. “Nico…”

Percy stared at his jelly donut. He had a rocky history with Nico di Angelo. The guy had once tricked him into visiting Hades’s palace, and Percy had ended up in a cell. But most of the time, Nico sided with the good guys. He certainly didn’t deserve slow suffocation in a bronze jar, and Percy couldn’t stand seeing Hazel in pain.

“We’ll rescue him,” he promised her. “We have to. The prophecy says he holds the key to endless  death.”

“That’s right,” Piper said encouragingly. “Hazel, your brother went searching for the Doors of  Death in the Underworld, right? He must’ve found them.”

“He can tell us where the doors are,” Percy said, “and how to close them.”

Hazel took a deep breath. “Yes. Good.”

“Uh…” Leo shifted in his chair. “One thing. The giants are expecting us to do this, right? So we’re walking into a trap?”

Hazel looked at Leo like he’d made a rude gesture. “We have no choice!”

“Don’t get me wrong, Hazel. It’s just that your brother, Nico… he knew about both camps, right?”

“Well, yes,” Hazel said.

“He’s been going back and forth,” Leo said, “and he didn’t tell either side.”

Jason sat forward, his expression grim. “You’re wondering if we can trust the guy. So am I.”

Hazel shot to her feet. “I don’t believe this. He’s my brother. He brought me back from the  Underworld, and you don’t want to help him?”

Frank put his hand on her shoulder. “Nobody’s saying that.” He glared at Leo. “Nobody had better  be saying that.”

Leo blinked. “Look, guys. All I mean is—”

“Hazel,” Jason said. “Leo is raising a fair point. I remember Nico from Camp Jupiter. Now I find

out he also visited Camp Half-Blood. That does strike me as… well, a little shady. Do we really know  where his loyalties lie? We just have to be careful.”

Hazel’s arms shook. A silver platter zoomed toward her and hit the wall to her left, splattering  scrambled eggs. “You… the great Jason Grace… the praetor I looked up to. You were supposed to be  so fair, such a good leader. And now you…” Hazel stomped her foot and stormed out of the mess hall.

“Hazel!” Leo called after her. “Ah, jeez. I should—”

“You’ve done enough,” Frank growled. He got up to follow her, but Piper gestured for him to  wait.

“Give her time,” Piper advised. Then she frowned at Leo and Jason. “You guys, that was pretty  cold.”

Jason looked shocked. “Cold? I’m just being cautious!”

“Her brother is dying,” Piper said.

Hazel started to protest, but Leo raised his hand. “I know, I know. Nico’s in trouble and we have  to hurry.”

“It’s June twenty-seventh,” Hazel said. “After today, four more days. Then he dies.”

Hazel also seemed preoccupied. Maybe she was taking in their surroundings, or maybe she was  worrying about her brother. In less than four days, unless they found him and freed him, Nico would  be dead.

Annabeth felt that deadline weighing on her, too. She’d always had mixed feelings about Nico di

Angelo. She suspected that he’d had a crush on her ever since they rescued him and his big sister  Bianca from that military academy in Maine; but Annabeth had never felt any attraction to Nico. He  was too young and too moody. There was a darkness in him that made her uneasy.

Still, she felt responsible for him. Back when they had met, neither of them had known about his

half sister, Hazel. At the time, Bianca had been Nico’s only living family. When she had died, Nico  became a homeless orphan, drifting through the world alone. Annabeth could relate to that.

“Speak for yourself.” Hazel glanced at the evening sun, which was almost to the horizon. “We

need to go fast. We’ve burned another day, and Nico only has three more left.”

“We can do it,” Leo promised. He hoped Hazel had forgiven him for not trusting her brother

(hey, it had seemed like a reasonable suspicion to Leo), but he didn’t want to reopen that wound. “We  can make it to Rome in three days—assuming, you know, nothing unexpected happens.”

“And you, Hazel,” Aphros said, “come visit again, and bring that horse of yours! I know you are

concerned about the time you lost, spending the night in our realm. You are worried about your

brother, Nico.…”

Hazel gripped her cavalry sword. “Is he—do you know where he is?”

Aphros shook his head. “Not exactly. But when you get closer, you should be able to sense his

presence. Never fear! You must reach Rome the day after tomorrow if you are to save him, but there is  still time. And you must save him.”

“Yes,” Bythos agreed. “He will be essential for your journey. I am not sure how, but I sense it is

true.”

“She’s right,” Hazel said. “After today, Nico has less than two days. The fish-centaurs said we have  to rescue him. He’s essential to the quest somehow.”

She looked around defensively, as if waiting for someone to argue. No one did. Piper tried to  imagine what Nico di Angelo was feeling, stuck in a jar with only two pomegranate seeds left to  sustain him, and no idea whether he would be rescued. It made Piper anxious to reach Rome, even  though she had a horrible feeling she was sailing toward her own sort of prison—a dark room filled  with water.

“Nico must have information about the Doors of Death,” Piper said. “We’ll save him, Hazel. We  can make it in time. Right, Leo?”

“What?” Leo tore his eyes away from the controls. “Oh, yeah. We should reach the Mediterranean  tomorrow morning. Then spend the rest of that day sailing to Rome, or flying, if I can get the  stabilizer fixed by then.…”

Jason suddenly looked as though his brownie with peach preserves didn’t taste so good. “Which will put us in Rome on the last possible day for Nico. Twenty-four hours to find him—at most.”

Piper shuddered. She didn’t know what time it was, but the sun was already starting to sink. How  had the day passed so quickly? She would have welcomed sundown for the cooler temperatures, except  it was also their deadline. A cool night breeze wouldn’t mean much if they were dead. Besides,  tomorrow was July 1, the Kalends of July. If their information was correct, it would be Nico di  Angelo’s last day of life, and the day Rome was destroyed.

Once Annabeth had made up her mind, arguing with her wouldn’t do any good. He remembered  the night three and a half years ago, when they’d saved Nico and Bianca di Angelo in Maine.  Annabeth had been captured by the Titan Atlas. For a while, Percy wasn’t sure if she was alive or  dead. He’d traveled across the country to save her from the Titan. It had been the hardest few days of  his life—not just the monsters and the fighting, but the worry.

“Plans?” Hazel asked. “Nico has until sunset—at best. And this entire city is supposedly getting

destroyed today.”

“Fine,” Annabeth muttered. “Hazel, now that we’re in Rome, do you think you can pinpoint  Nico’s location?”

Hazel blinked, as if coming out of a trance from watching the Percy/Annabeth Show.  “Um…hopefully, if I get close enough. I’ll have to walk around the city. Frank, would you come with  me?”

Piper drew her knife and set it on the rail. “Jason and I can watch the ship for now. I’ll see what  Katoptris can show me. But, Hazel, if you guys get a fix on Nico’s location, don’t go in there by  yourselves. Come back and get us. It’ll take all of us to fight the giants.”

She didn’t say the obvious: even all of them together wouldn’t be enough, unless they had a god.

on  their side. Percy decided not to bring that up.

“Good idea,” Percy said. “How about we plan to meet back here at…what?”

“Three this afternoon?” Jason suggested. “That’s probably the latest we could rendezvous and still  hope to fight the giants and save Nico. If something happens to change the plan, try to send an Iris message.”

“But we’re not here because of that,” he guessed.

“No,” Hazel said. “There’s an entrance—a tunnel that will lead us toward Nico. I can sense it close  by. I’m not sure where.”

“Forget I said anything.” Hazel sighed. “Look, it’s not three o’clock yet. We can at least do a little

exploring, try to pinpoint Nico’s location before we contact the others. You two stay here until I call  for you. I want to check things out, make sure the tunnel is structurally sound. I’ll be able to tell more  once I’m underground.”

Hazel rubbed the side of her head. “But I don’t understand. Where is Nico? That tunnel was  supposed to lead us to Nico.”

Leo had almost forgotten why they’d come down here in the first place. Nico obviously wasn’t  here. The place was a dead end. So why… ?

“Oh.” He felt like there was a buzz-saw sphere on his own head, pulling out his wires and gears.

“Hazel, how exactly were you tracking Nico? I mean, could you just sense him nearby because he was  your brother?”

She frowned, still looking a bit wobbly from her electric shock treatment. “Not—not totally.  Sometimes I can tell when he’s close, but, like I said, Rome is so confusing, so much interference  because of all the tunnels and caves—”

“You tracked him with your metal-finding senses,” Leo guessed. “His sword?”

She blinked. “How did you know?”

“You’d better come here.” He led Hazel and Frank up to the control room and pointed to the  black sword.

“Oh. Oh, no.” Hazel would’ve collapsed if Frank hadn’t caught her. “But that’s impossible! Nico’s  sword was with him in the bronze jar. Percy saw it in his dream!”

“Either the dream was wrong,” Leo said, “or the giants moved the sword here as a decoy.”

“So this was a trap,” Frank said. “We were lured here.”

“But why?” Hazel cried. “Where’s my brother?”

Percy frowned. “Piper, Nico is dying. We’ve got to find him. Not to mention, Rome is about to get destroyed.”

Her voice wouldn’t work. She’d kept that vision of the circular room to herself for so long, now she found it impossible to talk about. She had a horrible feeling that explaining it to Percy and Jason wouldn’t change anything. She couldn’t stop what was about to happen.

She picked up the knife again. Its hilt seemed colder than usual. She forced herself to look at the blade. She saw two giants in gladiator armor sitting on oversized  
praetors’ chairs. The giants toasted each other with golden goblets as if they’d just won an important fight. Between them stood a large bronze jar.

The vision zoomed in again. Inside the jar, Nico di Angelo was curled in a ball, no longer moving, all the pomegranate seeds eaten.

“We’re too late,” Jason said.

“No,” Percy said. “No, I can’t believe that. Maybe he’s gone into a deeper trance to buy time. We have to hurry.”

The blade’s surface went dark. Piper slipped it back into its sheath, trying to keep her hands from shaking. She hoped that Percy was right and Nico was still alive. On the other hand, she didn’t see how that image connected with the vision of the drowning room. Maybe the giants were toasting each other because she and Percy and Jason were dead.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know where Annabeth was. Frank, Hazel, and Leo were missing in action. He still had to save Nico di Angelo, assuming the guy wasn’t already dead. And there was that little matter of the giants destroying Rome, waking Gaea, and taking over the world. Seriously, these monsters and gods were thousands of years old. Couldn’t they take a few decades off and let Percy live his life? Apparently not.

They stepped inside. Percy scanned the room. There were several thousand things to look at, most of them in motion, but one good aspect of being an ADHD demigod was that Percy was comfortable with chaos. About a hundred yards away, he spotted a raised dais with two empty oversized praetor chairs. Standing between them was a bronze jar big enough to hold a person.

“Look.” He pointed it out to his friends.

Piper frowned. “That’s too easy.”

“Of course,” Percy said.

“But we have no choice,” Jason said. “We’ve got to save Nico.”

“Yeah.” Percy started across the room, picking his way around conveyor belts and moving platforms. 

“Okay.” Percy decided not to comment on the Hawaiian shirt. “Now, about our friend…”

“Oh, him,” Ephialtes sneered. “We were going to let him finish dying in public, but he has no entertainment value. He’s spent days curled up sleeping. What sort of spectacle is that? Otis, tip over the jar.”

Otis trudged over to the dais, stopping occasionally to do a plié. He knocked over the jar, the lid popped off, and Nico di Angelo spilled out. The sight of his deathly pale face and too-skinny frame made Percy’s heart stop. Percy couldn’t tell whether he was alive or dead. He wanted to rush over and check, but Ephialtes stood in his way.

“Now we have to hurry,” said the Big F. “We should go through your stage directions. The hypogeum is all set!”

Percy was ready to slice this giant in half and get out of there, but Otis was standing over Nico. If a battle started, Nico was in no condition to defend himself. Percy needed to buy him some recovery time.

At Otis’s feet, Nico shuddered. Percy felt like a hellhound hamster wheel somewhere in his chest had started moving again. At least Nico was alive. Now they just had to defeat the giants, preferably without destroying the city of Rome, and get out of here to find their friends.

Nico stirred. Otis looked down at him. His snaky feet flicked their tongues at Nico’s head.

“Plus!” Piper said quickly. “Plus, we could do some dance moves as we’re escaping. Perhaps a ballet number!”

Otis forgot all about Nico. He lumbered over and wagged his finger at Ephialtes. “You see? That’s what I was telling you! It would be incredible!”

Percy glanced over at Nico, who was just starting to move. Percy wanted him to be at least conscious enough to crawl out of the way when the fighting started. And Percy needed more information from the giants about Annabeth, and where his other friends were being kept.

Nico started to crawl away, groaning. Percy wanted him to move faster and to groan less. He considered throwing his Wonder bread at him.

The walls started closing in on him like the sides of a vise grip. Percy jumped up and grabbed the bottom of the hydra’s cage. He caught a brief glimpse of Piper leaping across a hopscotch pattern of fiery pits, making her way toward Nico, who was dazed and weaponless and being stalked by a pair of leopards. 

At the dais, Piper stood guard over Nico as the leopards advanced. She aimed her cornucopia and shot a pot roast over the cats’ heads. It must have smelled pretty good, because the leopards raced after it. 

Across the room, sandbags rained down around Piper and Nico. Piper tried to pull Nico to safety, but one of the bags caught her shoulder and knocked her down.

Jason ran to Piper’s side. She yelped when he touched her arm. Her shoulder looked unnaturally bent, but she muttered, “Fine. I’m fine.” Next to her, Nico sat up, looking around him in bewilderment as if just realizing he’d missed a battle.

Jason ran to his side, but Otis lumbered after him. Percy managed to rise and found himself shoulder to shoulder with Jason. Over by the dais, Piper was still on the floor, unable to get up. Nico was barely conscious. 

The god dissolved into purple mist. Piper and Nico disappeared.

“This is a proper show!” boomed the voice of Bacchus. He sat in the emperor’s box wearing purple robes and golden laurels. At his left sat Nico and Piper, her shoulder being tended by a nymph in a nurse’s uniform. At Bacchus’s right crouched a satyr, offering up Doritos and grapes. The god raised a can of Diet Pepsi and the crowd went respectfully quiet. 

As Percy’s friends disembarked from the ship, the crowd of ghosts shimmered and disappeared. Piper and Nico struggled down from the emperor’s box as the Colosseum’s magical renovations began to turn into mist. The arena floor remained solid, but otherwise the stadium looked as if it hadn’t hosted a good giant killing for eons. 

The god vaporized in a cloud of mist that smelled faintly of grape juice. Jason ran to meet Piper and Nico.

The demigods gathered around the helm. Jason bandaged Piper’s sprained shoulder while Hazel sat at the stern, feeding Nico ambrosia. The son of Hades could barely lift his head. His voice was so quiet, Hazel had to lean in whenever he spoke.

She helped Nico to his feet. He’d always been pale, but now his skin looked like powdered milk. His dark sunken eyes reminded Percy of photos he’d seen of liberated prisoners-of-war, which Percy guessed Nico basically was.

“Thank you,” Nico rasped. His eyes darted nervously around the group. “I’d given up hope.”

The past week or so, Percy had imagined a lot of scathing things he might say to Nico when they met again, but the guy looked so frail and sad, Percy couldn’t muster much anger.

“You knew about the two camps all along,” Percy said. “You could have told me who I was the first day I arrived at Camp Jupiter, but you didn’t.”

Nico slumped against the helm. “Percy, I’m sorry. I discovered Camp Jupiter last year. My dad led me there, though I wasn’t sure why. He told me the gods had kept the camps separate for centuries and that I couldn’t tell anyone. The time wasn’t right. But he said it would be important for me to know…” He doubled over in a fit of coughing.

Hazel held his shoulders until he could stand again.

“I—I thought Dad meant because of Hazel,” Nico continued. “I’d need a safe place to take her. But now…I think he wanted me to know about both camps so I’d understand how important your quest was, and so I’d search for the Doors of Death.”

The air turned electric—literally, as Jason started throwing off sparks.

“Did you find the doors?” Percy asked.

Nico nodded. “I was a fool. I thought I could go anywhere in the Underworld, but I walked right into Gaea’s trap. I might as well have tried running from a black hole.”

“Um…” Frank chewed his lip. “What kind of black hole are you talking about?”

Nico started to speak, but whatever he needed to say must have been too terrifying. He turned to Hazel.

She put her hand on her brother’s arm. “Nico told me that the Doors of Death have two sides— one in the mortal world, one in the Underworld. The mortal side of the portal is in Greece. It’s heavily guarded by Gaea’s forces. That’s where they brought Nico back into the upper world. Then they transported him to Rome.”

Piper must’ve been nervous, because her cornucopia spit out a cheeseburger. “Where exactly in Greece is this doorway?”

Nico took a rattling breath. “The House of Hades. It’s an underground temple in Epirus. I can mark it on a map, but—but the mortal side of the portal isn’t the problem. In the Underworld, the Doors of Death are in…in…”

A cold pair of hands did the itsy-bitsy spider down Percy’s back.A black hole. An inescapable part of the Underworld where even Nico di Angelo couldn’t go. Why  
hadn’t Percy thought of this before? He’d been to the very edge of that place. He still had nightmares about it.

“Tartarus,” he guessed. “The deepest part of the Underworld.”

Nico nodded. “They pulled me into the pit, Percy. The things I saw down there…” His voice broke.

Hazel pursed her lips. “No mortal has ever been to Tartarus,” she explained. “At least, no one has ever gone in and returned alive. It’s the maximum-security prison of Hades, where the old Titans and the other enemies of the gods are bound. It’s where all monsters go when they die on the earth. It’s…well, no one knows exactly what it’s like.” Her eyes drifted to her brother. The rest of her thought didn’t need to be spoken: _No one except Nico._

Hazel handed him his black sword.

Nico leaned on it like it was an old man’s cane. “Now I understand why Hades hasn’t been able to close the doors,” he said. “Even the gods don’t go into Tartarus. Even the god of death, Thanatos himself, wouldn’t go near that place.”

Leo glanced over from the wheel. “So let me guess. We’ll have to go there.”

Nico shook his head. “It’s impossible. I’m the son of Hades, and even I barely survived. Gaea’s forces overwhelmed me instantly. They’re so powerful down there…no demigod would stand a chance. I almost went insane.”

Nico’s eyes looked like shattered glass. Percy wondered sadly if something inside him had broken permanently.

“Then we’ll sail for Epirus,” Percy said. “We’ll just close the gates on this side.”

“I wish it were that easy,” Nico said. “The doors would have to be controlled on both sides to be closed. It’s like a double seal. Maybe, just maybe, all seven of you working together could defeat Gaea’s forces on the mortal side, at the House of Hades. But unless you had a team fighting simultaneously on the Tartarus side, a team powerful enough to defeat a legion of monsters in their home territory—”

“There has to be a way,” Jason said.

Nobody volunteered any brilliant ideas.

Percy thought his stomach was sinking. Then he realized the entire ship was descending toward a big building like a palace.

 _Annabeth._ Nico’s news was so horrible Percy had momentarily forgotten she was still in danger, which made him feel incredibly guilty.

Their friends gathered around them. Nico di Angelo was there, but Annabeth’s thoughts were so fuzzy, this didn’t seem surprising to her. It seemed only right that he would be with them.

Percy told her about rescuing Nico, the appearance of Bacchus, and the fight with the twins in the Colosseum. Nico didn’t say much. The poor guy looked like he’d been wandering through a wasteland for six weeks. Percy explained what Nico had found out about the Doors of Death, and how they had to be closed on both sides. Even with sunlight streaming in from above, Percy’s news made the cavern seem dark again.

“So the mortal side is in Epirus,” she said. “At least that’s somewhere we can reach.”

Nico grimaced. “But the other side is the problem. Tartarus.”

Plumes of dust and cobwebs blasted from holes in the floor. The spider’s silk support cables trembled like massive guitar strings and began to snap. Hazel lunged for the bottom of the rope ladder and gestured for Nico to follow, but Nico was in no condition to sprint.

Percy gripped Annabeth’s hand tighter. “It’ll be fine,” he muttered.

Looking up, she saw grappling lines shoot from the Argo II and wrap around the statue. One lassoed Athena’s neck like a noose. Leo shouted orders from the helm as Jason and Frank flew frantically from line to line, trying to secure them.

Nico had just reached the ladder when a sharp pain shot up Annabeth’s bad leg. She gasped and stumbled. 

Annabeth glimpsed Nico hobbling in their direction, Hazel trying to disentangle her cavalry sword from the rope ladder. Their other friends were still focused on the statue, and Hazel’s cry was lost in the general shouting and the rumbling of the cavern.

Nico leaned over the edge of the chasm, thrusting out his hand, but he was much too far away to help. Hazel was yelling for the others, but even if they heard her over all the chaos, they’d never make it in time.

Annabeth’s leg felt like it was pulling free of her body. Pain washed everything in red. The force of the Underworld tugged at her like dark gravity. She didn’t have the strength to fight. She knew she was too far down to be saved.

“Percy, let me go,” she croaked. “You can’t pull me up.”

His face was white with effort. She could see in his eyes that he knew it was hopeless.

“Never,” he said. He looked up at Nico, fifteen feet above. “The other side, Nico! We’ll see you there. Understand?”

Nico’s eyes widened. “But—”

“Lead them there!” Percy shouted. “Promise me!”

“I—I will.”

Below them, the voice laughed in the darkness. Sacrifices. Beautiful sacrifices to wake the goddess. Percy tightened his grip on Annabeth’s wrist. His face was gaunt, scraped and bloody, his hair dusted with cobwebs, but when he locked eyes with her, she thought he had never looked more handsome.

“We’re staying together,” he promised. “You’re not getting away from me. Never again.” Only then did she understand what would happen. A one-way trip. A very hard fall.

“As long as we’re together,” she said.

She heard Nico and Hazel still screaming for help. She saw the sunlight far, far above—maybe the last sunlight she would ever see. 

Everything had happened so quickly. They had secured grappling lines to the Athena Parthenos just as the floor gave way, and the final columns of webbing snapped. Jason and Frank dove down to save the others, but they’d only found Nico and Hazel hanging from the rope ladder. Percy and Annabeth were gone. The pit to Tartarus had been buried under several tons of debris. Leo pulled the Argo II out of the cavern seconds before the entire place imploded, taking the rest of the parking lot with it.

Nico di Angelo shuffled over, leaning on his black sword. “Leo, they’re not dead. If they were, I could feel it.”

“How can you be sure?” Leo asked. “If that pit really led to…you know…how could you sense them so far away?”

Nico and Hazel shared a look, maybe comparing notes on their Hades/Pluto death radar. Leo shivered. Hazel had never seemed like a child of the Underworld to him, but Nico di Angelo—that guy was creepy.

“We can’t be one hundred percent sure,” Hazel admitted. “But I think Nico is right. Percy and Annabeth are still alive…at least, so far.”

“She’s right,” Nico said. “Even if the pit hadn’t been buried, you couldn’t have flown into it without being pulled down. I’m the only one who has actually been into Tartarus. It’s impossible to describe how powerful that place is. Once you get close, it sucks you in. I never stood a chance.”

Frank sniffled. “Then Percy and Annabeth don’t stand a chance either?”

Nico twisted his silver skull ring. “Percy is the most powerful demigod I’ve ever met. No offense to you guys, but it’s true. If anybody can survive, he will, especially if he’s got Annabeth at his side. They’re going to find a way through Tartarus.”

Jason turned. “To the Doors of Death, you mean. But you told us it’s guarded by Gaea’s most powerful forces. How could two demigods possibly—?”

“I don’t know,” Nico admitted. “But Percy told me to lead you guys to Epirus, to the mortal side of the doorway. He’s planning on meeting us there. If we can survive the House of Hades, fight our way through Gaea’s forces, then maybe we can work together with Percy and Annabeth and seal the Doors of Death from both sides.”

“And get Percy and Annabeth back safely?” Leo asked.

“Maybe.”

Leo didn’t like the way Nico said that, as if he wasn’t sharing all his doubts. Besides, Leo knew something about locks and doors. If the Doors of Death needed to be sealed from both sides, how could they do that unless someone stayed in the Underworld, trapped?

Nico took a deep breath. “I don’t know how they’ll manage it, but Percy and Annabeth will find a way. They’ll journey through Tartarus and find the Doors of Death. When they do, we have to be ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes Percy, because that's how you help people who have been in a death trance for eight days- you throw your wonder bread at them.


	7. The House of Hades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The book switched to ' instead of " halfway through and I don't have the energy to change it, so... sorry.

"Hard to port!" Nico yelled from the foremast of the flying ship.

Back at the helm, Leo yanked the wheel. The Argo II veered left, its aerial oars slashing through the clouds like rows of knives.

Hazel made the mistake of looking over the rail. A dark spherical shape hurtled towards her. She thought, Why is the moon coming at us? Then she yelped and hit the deck. The huge rock passed so close overhead it blew her hair out of her face.

CRACK!

The foremast collapsed – sail, spars and Nico all crashing to the deck. The boulder, roughly the size of a pickup truck, tumbled off into the fog like it had important business elsewhere.

"Nico!" Hazel scrambled over to him as Leo brought the ship level.  
"I’m fine," Nico muttered, kicking folds of canvas off his legs.

She helped him up, and they stumbled to the bow. Hazel peeked over more carefully this time. The clouds parted just long enough to reveal the top of the mountain below them: a spearhead of black rock jutting from mossy green slopes. Standing at the summit was a mountain god – one of the numina montanum, Jason had called them. Or ourae, in Greek. Whatever you called them, they were nasty. Like the others they had faced, this one wore a simple white tunic over skin as rough and dark as basalt. He was about twenty feet tall and extremely muscular, with a flowing white beard, scraggly hair and a wild look in his eyes, like a crazy hermit. He bellowed something Hazel didn’t understand, but it obviously wasn’t welcoming. With his bare hands, he prised another chunk of rock from his mountain and began shaping it into a ball.

The scene disappeared in the fog, but when the mountain god bellowed again other numina answered in the distance, their voices echoing through the valleys.

"Stupid rock gods!" Leo yelled from the helm. "That’s the third time I’ve had to replace that mast! You think they grow on trees?"

Nico frowned. "Masts are from trees."

Nico yelled, "Get us out of here!"

Leo muttered some unflattering comments about numina, but he turned the wheel. The engines hummed. Magical rigging lashed itself tight, and the ship tacked to port. The Argo II picked up speed, retreating north-west, as they’d been doing for the past two days.

The thought weighed on her chest. Camp Jupiter had only been her home for nine months, since Nico had brought her back from the Underworld. But she missed it more than her birthplace of New Orleans, and definitely more than Alaska, where she’d died back in 1942.

She missed her bunk in the Fifth Cohort barracks. She missed dinners in the mess hall, with wind spirits whisking platters through the air and legionnaires joking about the war games. She wanted to wander the streets of New Rome, holding hands with Frank Zhang. She wanted to experience just being a regular girl for once, with an actual sweet, caring boyfriend. Most of all, she wanted to feel safe. She was tired of being scared and worried all the time.

She stood on the quarterdeck as Nico picked mast splinters out of his arms and Leo punched buttons on the ship’s console.

"It’s our fault," Hazel said. "Nico’s and mine. The numina can sense us."

She glanced at her half-brother. Since they’d rescued him from the giants, he’d started to regain his strength, but he was still painfully thin. His black shirt and jeans hung off his skeletal frame. Long dark hair framed his sunken eyes. His olive complexion had turned a sickly greenish white, like the colour of tree sap.

In human years, he was barely fourteen, just a year older than Hazel, but that didn’t tell the whole story. Like Hazel, Nico di Angelo was a demigod from another era. He radiated a kind of old energy – a melancholy that came from knowing he didn’t belong in the modern world.

Hazel hadn’t known him very long, but she understood, even shared, his sadness. The children of Hades (Pluto – whichever) rarely had happy lives. And, judging from what Nico had told her the night before, their biggest challenge was yet to come when they reached the House of Hades – a challenge he’d implored her to keep secret from the others.

Nico gripped the hilt of his Stygian iron sword. "Earth spirits don’t like children of the Underworld. That’s true. We get under their skin – literally. But I think the numina could sense this ship anyway. We’re carrying the Athena Parthenos. That thing is like a magical beacon."

Hazel shivered, thinking of the massive statue that took up most of the hold. They’d sacrificed so much saving it from the cavern under Rome, but they had no idea what to do with it. So far the only thing it seemed to be good for was alerting more monsters to their presence.

Leo traced his finger down the map of Italy. "So crossing the mountains is out. Thing is they go a long way in either direction."

"We could go by sea," Hazel suggested. "Sail around the southern tip of Italy."

"That’s a long way," Nico said. "Plus, we don’t have…" His voice cracked. "You know … our sea expert, Percy."

The name hung in the air like an impending storm.

Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon … probably the demigod Hazel admired most. He’d saved her life so many times on their quest to Alaska, but when he had needed Hazel’s help in Rome she’d failed him. She’d watched, powerless, as he and Annabeth had plunged into that pit.

Hazel took a deep breath. Percy and Annabeth were still alive. She knew that in her heart. She could still help them if she could get to the House of Hades, if she could survive the challenge Nico had warned her about …

"Whatever we do," Nico said, "we have to hurry. Every day that Annabeth and Percy are in Tartarus …"

He didn’t need to finish. They had to hope Percy and Annabeth could survive long enough to find the Tartarus side of the Doors of Death. Then, assuming the Argo II could reach the House of Hades, they might be able to open the Doors on the mortal side, save their friends and seal the entrance, stopping Gaia’s forces from being reincarnated in the mortal world over and over.

Yes … nothing could go wrong with that plan.

Nico scowled at the Italian countryside below them. "Maybe we should wake the others. This decision affects us all."

"No," Hazel said. "We can find a solution."

She wasn’t sure why she felt so strongly about it, but since leaving Rome the crew had started to lose its cohesion. They’d been learning to work as a team. Then bam … their two most important members had fallen into Tartarus. Percy had been their backbone. He’d given them confidence as they sailed across the Atlantic and into the Mediterranean. As for Annabeth – she’d been the de facto leader of the quest. She’d recovered the Athena Parthenos single-handedly. She was the smartest of the seven, the one with the answers.

If Hazel woke up the rest of the crew every time they had a problem, they’d just start arguing again, feeling more and more hopeless.

She had to make Percy and Annabeth proud of her. She had to take the initiative. She couldn’t believe her only role in this quest would be what Nico had warned her about – removing the obstacle waiting for them in the House of Hades. She pushed the thought aside.

"We need some creative thinking," she said. "Another way to cross those mountains, or a way to hide ourselves from the numina."

Nico sighed. "If I was on my own, I could shadow-travel. But that won’t work for an entire ship. And, honestly, I’m not sure I have the strength to even transport myself any more."

"I could maybe rig some kind of camouflage," Leo said, "like a smoke screen to hide us in the clouds." He didn’t sound very enthusiastic.

Hazel stared down at the rolling farmland, thinking about what lay beneath it – the realm of her father, lord of the Underworld. She’d only met Pluto once, and she hadn’t even realized who he was. She certainly had never expected help from him – not when she was alive the first time, not during her time as a spirit in the Underworld, not since Nico had brought her back to the world of the living.

Her dad’s servant Thanatos, god of death, had suggested that Pluto might be doing Hazel a favour by ignoring her. After all, she wasn’t supposed to be alive. If Pluto took notice of her, he might have to return her to the land of the dead. Which meant calling on Pluto would be a very bad idea. And yet …

 _Please, Dad,_ she found herself praying. _I have to find a way to your temple in Greece – the House of Hades. If you’re down there, show me what to do._

At the edge of the horizon, a flicker of movement caught her eye – something small and beige racing across the fields at incredible speed, leaving a vapour trail like a plane’s.

Hazel couldn’t believe it. She didn’t dare hope, but it had to be … "Arion."

"What?" Nico asked.

Leo let out a happy whoop as the dust cloud got closer. "It’s her horse, man! You missed that whole part. We haven’t seen him since Kansas!"

Hazel laughed – the first time she’d laughed in days. It felt so good to see her old friend.

"Hazel!" Nico called down from the ship. "What’s going on?"

"It’s fine!" She crouched down and summoned a gold nugget from the earth. She was getting better at controlling her power. Precious stones hardly ever popped up around her by accident any more, and pulling gold from the ground was easy.

She fed Arion the nugget … his favourite snack. Then she smiled up at Leo and Nico, who were watching her from the top of the ladder a hundred feet above. "Arion wants to take me somewhere."

The boys exchanged nervous looks.

"I’ll be okay!" she called up to Nico and Leo. "Stay put and wait for me."

"Wait for how long?" Nico asked. "What if you don’t come back?"

"Don’t worry, I will," she promised, hoping it was true.

"Your mother had the talent," Hecate said. "You have even more. As a child of Pluto who has returned from the dead, you understand the veil between worlds better than most. You can control the Mist. If you do not … well, your brother Nico has already warned you. The spirits have whispered to him, told him of your future. When you reach the House of Hades, you will meet a formidable enemy. She cannot be overcome by strength or sword. You alone can defeat her, and you will require magic."

Hazel’s legs felt wobbly. She remembered Nico’s grim expression, his fingers digging into her arm. _You can’t tell the others. Not yet. Their courage is already stretched to the limit._

"Hazel?" Nico asked.

Her knees buckled. Nico and Leo grabbed her arms and helped her to the steps of the foredeck. She felt embarrassed, collapsing like some fairy-tale damsel, but her energy was gone. The memory of those glowing scenes at the crossroads filled her with dread.

"I met Hecate," she managed.

She didn’t tell them everything. She remembered what Nico had said: _Their courage is already stretched to the limit._ But she told them about the secret northern pass through the mountains, and the detour Hecate had described that could take them to Epirus.

When she was done, Nico took her hand. His eyes were full of concern. "Hazel, you met Hecate at a crossroads. That’s … that’s something many demigods don’t survive. And the ones who do survive are never the same. Are you sure you’re –"

"I’m fine," she insisted.

"It’s our best option." Nico helped Hazel to her feet. "We have to make up for lost time, travel as fast as we can. Percy’s and Annabeth’s lives might depend on it."

"Fast?" Leo grinned. "I can do fast."

He hurried to the console and started flipping switches.

Nico took Hazel’s arm and guided her out of earshot. "What else did Hecate say? Anything about –"

"I can’t." Hazel cut him off. The images she’d seen had almost overwhelmed her: Percy and Annabeth helpless at the feet of those black metal doors, the dark giant looming over them, Hazel herself trapped in a glowing maze of light, unable to help.

_You must defeat the witch, Hecate had said. You alone can defeat her. Unless you manage that …_

_The end,_ Hazel thought. _All gateways closed. All hope extinguished._

Nico had warned her. He’d communed with the dead, heard them whispering hints about their future. Two children of the Underworld would enter the House of Hades. They would face an impossible foe. Only one of them would make it to the Doors of Death.

Hazel couldn’t meet her brother’s eyes.

"I’ll tell you later," she promised, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Right now, we should rest while we can. Tonight, we cross the Apennines."

Annabeth shuddered. She remembered what Percy had said just before they fell into Tartarus. He’d made Nico di Angelo promise to lead the Argo II to Epirus, to the mortal side of the Doors of Death.

Annabeth knew he was right. Still … when she tried to imagine a plan that could succeed, the logistics overwhelmed her. They had no way of locating the Doors. They didn’t know how much time it would take, or even if time flowed at the same speed in Tartarus. How could they possibly synchronize a meeting with their friends? And Nico had mentioned a legion of Gaia’s strongest monsters guarding the Doors on the Tartarus side. Annabeth and Percy couldn’t exactly launch a frontal assault.

"We made it through the mountains," he said. "We’re almost to Bologna. You should join us in the mess hall. Nico has new information."

Next to her sat her boyfriend Frank Zhang, dressed in black workout pants and a Roman tourist Tshirt that said CIAO! (was that even a word?). Frank’s old centurion badge was pinned to his shirt, despite the fact that the demigods of the Argo II were now Public Enemies Numbers 1 through 7 back at Camp Jupiter. His grim expression just reinforced his unfortunate resemblance to a sumo wrestler. Then there was Hazel’s half-brother, Nico di Angelo. Dang, that kid gave Leo the freaky-deakies. He sat back in his leather aviator jacket, his black T-shirt and jeans, that wicked silver skull ring on his finger and the Stygian sword at his side. His tufts of black hair stuck up in curls like baby bat wings. His eyes were sad and kind of empty, as if he’d stared into the depths of Tartarus – which he had. The only absent demigod was Piper, who was taking her turn at the helm with Coach Hedge, their satyr chaperone.

Leo wished Piper were here. She had a way of calming things down with that Aphrodite charm of hers. After his dreams last night, Leo could use some calm.

On the other hand, it was probably good she was above deck chaperoning their chaperone. Now that they were in the ancient lands, they had to be constantly on guard. Leo was nervous about letting Coach Hedge fly solo. The satyr was a little trigger-happy, and the helm had plenty of bright, dangerous buttons that could cause the picturesque Italian villages below them to go BOOM!

Leo had zoned out so totally he didn’t realize Jason was still talking.

"– the House of Hades," he was saying. "Nico?"

Nico sat forward. "I communed with the dead last night." He just tossed that line out there, like he was saying he got a text from a buddy.

"I was able to learn more about what we’ll face," Nico continued. "In ancient times, the House of Hades was a major site for Greek pilgrims. They would come to speak with the dead and honour their ancestors."

Leo frowned. "Sounds like Día de los Muertos. My Aunt Rosa took that stuff seriously."

Nico cleared his throat. "A lot of cultures have seasonal traditions to honour the dead, but the House of Hades was open year round. Pilgrims could actually speak to the ghosts. In Greek, the place was called the Necromanteion, the Oracle of Death. You’d work your way through different levels of tunnels, leaving offerings and drinking special potions –"

"Special potions," Leo muttered. "Yum."

Jason flashed him a look like, _Dude, enough_. "Nico, go on."

"The pilgrims believed that each level of the temple brought you closer to the Underworld, until the dead would appear before you. If they were pleased with your offerings, they would answer your questions, maybe even tell you the future."

Frank tapped his mug of hot chocolate. "And if the spirits weren’t pleased?"

"Some pilgrims found nothing,’ Nico said. ‘Some went insane or died after leaving the temple. Others lost their way in the tunnels and were never seen again."

"The point is," Jason said quickly, "Nico found some information that might help us."

"Yeah." Nico didn’t sound very enthusiastic. "The ghost I spoke to last night … he was a former priest of Hecate. He confirmed what the goddess told Hazel yesterday at the crossroads. In the first war with the giants, Hecate fought for the gods. She slew one of the giants – one who’d been designed as the anti-Hecate. A guy named Clytius."

Hazel shook her head. "Only that …" She glanced at Nico, and some sort of silent argument happened between them. Leo got the feeling that the two of them had had private conversations about the House of Hades and they weren’t sharing all the details. "Only that she won’t be easy to defeat."

"But there is some good news," Nico said. "The ghost I talked to explained how Hecate defeated Clytius in the first war. She used her torches to set his hair on fire. He burned to death. In other words, fire is his weakness."

Everybody looked at Leo.

"Oh," he said. "Okay."

Jason nodded encouragingly, like this was great news – like he expected Leo to walk up to a towering mass of darkness, shoot a few fireballs and solve all their problems. Leo didn’t want to bring him down, but he could still hear Gaia’s voice: He is the void that consumes all magic, the cold that consumes all fire, the silence that consumes all speech. Leo was pretty sure it would take more than a few matches to set that giant ablaze.

"It’s a good lead," Jason insisted. "At least we know how to kill the giant. And this sorceress … well, if Hecate believes Hazel can defeat her, then so do I."

Hazel dropped her eyes. "Now we just have to reach the House of Hades, battle our way through Gaia’s forces –"

"Plus a bunch of ghosts," Nico added grimly. "The spirits in that temple may not be friendly."

"– and find the Doors of Death," Hazel continued. "Assuming we can somehow arrive at the same time as Percy and Annabeth and rescue them."

The ship lurched as if it had hit an iceberg. Leo’s breakfast plate slid across the table. Nico fell backwards out of his chair and banged his head against the sideboard. He collapsed on the floor, with a dozen magic goblets and platters crashing down on top of him.

"Nico!" Hazel ran to help him.

"No!" Leo yelled.

"Uhhh," Nico groaned from the floor.

"Piper!" Jason cried.

Leo was vaguely aware of Hazel shouting, "Go! I’ll take care of Nico!"

As if Leo was going to turn back. Sure, he’d hoped di Angelo was okay, but he had headaches of his own.

"The Black House," Nico di Angelo translated. "Calle Frezzeria is the street."

Frank tried not to flinch when he realized Nico was at his shoulder. The guy was so quiet and brooding he almost seemed to dematerialize when he wasn’t speaking. Hazel might have been the one who came back from the dead, but Nico was way more ghost-like.

"You speak Italian?" Frank asked.

Nico shot him a warning look, like: _Watch the questions._ He spoke calmly, though. "Frank is right. We have to find that address. The only way to do it is to walk the city. Venice is a maze. We’ll have to risk the crowds and those … whatever they are."

Thunder rumbled in the clear summer sky. They’d passed through some storms the night before. Frank had thought they were over, but now he wasn’t sure. The air felt as thick and warm as sauna steam.

"I’ll go with Frank," Nico offered.

Frank’s eye started twitching. The war gods’ voices rose to a crescendo in his head: _Kill him! Graecus scum!_

_No! I love Graecus scum!_

"Uh … you’re good with animals?" he asked.

Nico smiled without humour. "Actually, most animals hate me. They can sense death. But there’s something about this city …" His expression turned grim. "Lots of death. Restless spirits. If I go, I may be able to keep them at bay. Besides, as you noticed, I speak Italian."

Leo scratched his head. "Lots of death, huh? Personally, I’m trying to avoid lots of death, but you guys have fun!"

Frank wasn’t sure what scared him more: shaggy-cow monsters, hordes of restless ghosts or going somewhere alone with Nico di Angelo.

"I’ll go, too." Hazel slipped her arm through Frank’s. "Three is the best number for a demigod quest, right?"

Frank tried not to look too relieved. He didn’t want to offend Nico. But he glanced at Hazel and told her with his eyes: _Thank you thank you thank you._

Nico stared at the canals, as if wondering what new and interesting forms of evil spirits might be lurking there. "All right, then. Let’s go find the owner of that book."

Nico stopped. "There."

They’d turned onto a smaller street, leaving the canal behind. Ahead of them was a small plaza lined with five-storey buildings. The area was strangely deserted – as if the mortals could sense it wasn’t safe. In the middle of the cobblestone courtyard, a dozen shaggy cow creatures were sniffing around the mossy base of an old stone well.

"A lot of cows in one place," Frank said.

"Yeah, but look," Nico said. "Past that archway."

Nico’s eyes must’ve been better than his. Frank squinted. At the far end of the plaza, a stone archway carved with lions led into a narrow street. Just past the arch, one of the town houses was painted black – the only black building Frank had seen so far in Venice.

"La Casa Nera," he guessed.

Hazel’s grip tightened on his fingers. "I don’t like that plaza. It feels … cold."

Frank wasn’t sure what she meant. He was still sweating like crazy.

But Nico nodded. He studied the town-house windows, most of which were covered with wooden shutters. "You’re right, Hazel. This neighbourhood is filled with lemures."

"Lemurs?" Frank asked nervously. "I’m guessing you don’t mean the furry little guys from Madagascar?"

"Angry ghosts," Nico said. "Lemures go back to Roman times. They hang around a lot of Italian cities, but I’ve never felt so many in one place. My mom told me …" He hesitated. "She used to tell me stories about the ghosts of Venice."

Again Frank wondered about Nico’s past, but he was afraid to ask. He caught Hazel’s eye.

 _Go ahead,_ she seemed to be saying. _Nico needs practice talking to people._

The sounds of assault rifles and atom bombs got louder in Frank’s head. Mars and Ares were trying to outsing each other with ‘Dixie’ and ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic’. Frank did his best to push that aside.

"Nico, your mom was Italian?" he guessed. "She was from Venice?"

Nico nodded reluctantly. "She met Hades here, back in the 1930s. As World War Two got closer, she fled to the U.S. with my sister and me. I mean … Bianca, my other sister. I don’t remember much about Italy, but I can still speak the language."

Frank tried to think of a response. _Oh, that’s nice_ didn’t seem to cut it.

He was hanging out with not one but two demigods who’d been pulled out of time. They were both, technically, about seventy years older than he was.

"Must’ve been hard on your mom," Frank said. "I guess we’ll do anything for someone we love."

Hazel squeezed his hand appreciatively. Nico stared at the cobblestones. "Yeah," he said bitterly. "I guess we will."

Frank wasn’t sure what Nico was thinking. He had a hard time imagining Nico di Angelo acting out of love for anybody, except maybe Hazel. But Frank decided he’d gone as far as he dared with the personal questions.

"So, the lemures …" He swallowed. "How do we avoid them?"

"I’m already on it," Nico said. "I’m sending out the message that they should stay away and ignore us. Hopefully that’s enough. Otherwise … things could get messy."

Hazel pursed her lips. "Let’s get going," she suggested.

Halfway across the piazza, everything went wrong, but it had nothing to do with ghosts. They were skirting the well in the middle of the square, trying to give the cow monsters some distance, when Hazel stumbled on a loose piece of cobblestone. Frank caught her. Six or seven of the big grey beasts turned to look at them. Frank glimpsed a glowing green eye under one’s mane, and instantly he was hit with a wave of nausea, the way he felt when he ate too much cheese or ice cream. The creatures made deep throbbing sounds in their throats like angry foghorns.

"Nice cows," Frank murmured. He put himself between his friends and the monsters. "Guys, I’m thinking we should back out of here slowly."

"I’m such a klutz," Hazel whispered. "Sorry."

"It’s not your fault," Nico said. "Look at your feet."

Frank glanced down and caught his breath.

Under their shoes, the paving stones were moving – spiky plant tendrils were pushing up from the cracks.

Nico stepped back. The roots snaked out in his direction, trying to follow. The tendrils got thicker, exuding a steamy green vapour that smelled of boiled cabbage.

Nico and Hazel bolted for the side street. Frank stepped in front of the monsters, hoping to keep their attention. He yelled at the top of his lungs, imagining himself as a fearsome rhinoceros, but with Ares and Mars screaming in his head he couldn’t concentrate. He remained regular-old Frank.

Two of the cow monsters peeled off from the herd to chase Nico and Hazel.

"No!" Frank yelled after them. "Me! I’m the rhino!"

He slashed the monster to dust, but the damage was already done. He forced himself not to breathe. Regardless, he could feel the fur burning off his snout. His eyes stung. He staggered back, half-blind and dizzy, dimly aware of Nico screaming his name.

"Frank! Frank!"

He tried to focus. He was back in human form, retching and stumbling. His face felt like it was peeling off. In front of him, the green cloud of gas floated between him and the herd. The remaining cow monsters eyed him warily, probably wondering if Frank had any more tricks up his sleeve.

He glanced behind him. Under the stone arch, Nico di Angelo was holding his black Stygian iron sword, gesturing at Frank to hurry. At Nico’s feet, two puddles of darkness stained the ground – no doubt the remains of the cow monsters that had chased them. And Hazel … she was propped against the wall behind her brother. She wasn’t moving.

Frank ran towards them, forgetting about the monster herd. He rushed past Nico and grabbed Hazel’s shoulders. Her head slumped against her chest.

"She got a blast of green gas right in the face," Nico said miserably. "I – I wasn’t fast enough."

Frank couldn’t tell if she was breathing. Rage and despair battled inside him. He’d always been scared of Nico. Now he wanted to drop-kick the son of Hades into the nearest canal. Maybe that wasn’t fair, but Frank didn’t care. Neither did the war gods screaming in his head.

"We need to get her back to the ship," Frank said.

The cow monster herd prowled cautiously just beyond the archway. They bellowed their foghorn cries. From nearby streets, more monsters answered. Reinforcements would soon have the demigods surrounded.

"We’ll never make it on foot," Nico said. "Frank, turn into a giant eagle. Don’t worry about me. Get her back to the Argo II!"

Frank carried Hazel as they followed the man further into the building. Nico offered to help, but Frank didn’t need it. Hazel weighed nothing, and Frank’s body hummed with adrenalin. He could feel Hazel shivering, so at least he knew she was alive, but her skin was cold. Her lips had taken on a greenish tinge – or was that just Frank’s blurry vision?

His eyes still burned from the monster’s breath. His lungs felt like he’d inhaled a flaming cabbage. He didn’t know why the gas had affected him less than it had Hazel. Maybe she’d got more of it in her lungs. He would have given anything to change places if it meant saving her.

The voices of Mars and Ares yelled in his head, urging him to kill Nico and the man in denim and anyone else he could find, but Frank forced down the noise.

"They’re always looking down." Nico smacked his forehead. "Right. I remember reading about them."

Frank glared at him. ‘Now you remember?’

Nico hung his head almost as low as a katobleps. "I, uh … used to play this stupid card game when I was younger. Mythomagic. The katobleps was one of the monster cards."

Frank blinked. "I played Mythomagic. I never saw that card."

"It was in the Africanus Extreme expansion deck."

"Oh."

Their host cleared his throat. "Are you two done, ah, geeking out, as they say?"

"Right, sorry," Nico muttered. "Anyway, katoblepones have poison breath and a poison gaze. I thought they only lived in Africa."

The man in denim shrugged. "That’s their native land. They were accidentally imported to Venice hundreds of years ago. You’ve heard of Saint Mark?"

He put his hand under Hazel’s nose. He couldn’t feel her breath. "Nico, please tell me she’s doing that death-trance thing, like you did in the bronze jar."

Nico grimaced. "I don’t know if Hazel can do that. Her dad is technically Pluto, not Hades, so –"

"Hades!" cried their host. He backed away, staring at Nico with distaste. "So that’s what I smell. Children of the Underworld? If I’d known that, I would never have let you in!"

Frank rose. "Hazel’s a good person. You promised you would help her!"

"I did not promise."

Nico drew his sword. "She’s my sister," he growled. "I don’t know who you are, but if you can cure her you have to, or so help me by the River Styx –"

"Oh, blah, blah, blah!" The man waved his hand. Suddenly where Nico di Angelo had been standing was a potted plant about five feet tall, with drooping green leaves, tufts of silk and half a dozen ripe yellow ears of corn.

"There," the man huffed, wagging his finger at the corn plant. "Children of Hades can’t order me around! You should talk less and listen more. Now at least you have ears."

Frank stumbled against the bed. "What did you – why –?"

"Um, Bologna. There were these –" Frank remembered that he wasn’t supposed to mention the dwarfs – "terrible monsters. We risked our lives, but we knew this was important to you. So could you maybe, you know, turn Nico back to normal and heal Hazel?"

Frank felt a bead of sweat trickle down his cheek. He didn’t care about this crazy god or his snakepowered chariot or his online degree programme. But Hazel was turning greener by the moment. Nico was a corn plant. And he was alone.

"Look," he said. "We did bring you the almanac. And my friends are really nice. They’re not like those other children of Hades you’ve met. So if there’s any way –"

"Oh!" Trip snapped his fingers. "I see where you’re going!"

"Uh … you do?"

"Absolutely! If I cure your friend Hazel and return the other one, Nicholas –"

"Nico."

"– if I return him to normal …"

"I’ll go find a way to fix the chariot," he said. "In return, you fix Nico and Hazel. Let us go in peace. And – and give us whatever aid you can to defeat Gaia’s forces."

She was still alive – green and shivering, barely breathing, but alive. As for Nico, he was still a corn plant.

Frank glared at him. "We’re not done. Heal Nico."

The farm god rolled his eyes. He pointed at the corn plant, and BAM! Nico di Angelo appeared in an explosion of corn silk.

Nico looked around in a panic. "I – I had the weirdest nightmare about popcorn." He frowned at Frank. "Why are you taller?"

"Everything’s fine," Frank promised. "Triptolemus was about to tell us how to survive the House of Hades. Weren’t you, Trip?"

The farm god raised his eyes to the ceiling, like, _Why me, Demeter?_

"Fine," Trip said. "When you arrive at Epirus, you will be offered a chalice to drink from."

"Offered by whom?" Nico asked.

"Doesn’t matter," Trip snapped. "Just know that it is filled with deadly poison."

Hazel shuddered. "So you’re saying that we shouldn’t drink it."

"No!" Trip said. "You must drink it, or you’ll never be able to make it through the temple. The poison connects you to the world of the dead, lets you pass into the lower levels. The secret to surviving is –" his eyes twinkled – "barley."

Frank stared at him. "Barley."

"In the front room, take some of my special barley. Make it into little cakes. Eat these before you step into the House of Hades. The barley will absorb the worst of the poison, so it will affect you, but not kill you."

"That’s it?" Nico demanded. "Hecate sent us halfway across Italy so you could tell us to eat barley?"

"Good luck!" Triptolemus sprinted across the room and hopped in his chariot. "And, Frank Zhang, I forgive you! You’ve got spunk. If you ever change your mind, my offer is open. I’d love to see you get a degree in farming!"

"Yeah," Frank muttered. "Thanks."

The god pulled a lever on his chariot. The snake-wheels turned. The wings flapped. At the back of the room, the garage doors rolled open.

"Oh, to be mobile again!" Trip cried. "So many ignorant lands in need of my knowledge. I will teach them the glories of tilling, irrigation, fertilizing!" The chariot lifted off and zipped out of the house, Triptolemus shouting to the sky, "Away, my serpents! Away!"

"That," Hazel said, "was very strange."

"The glories of fertilizing." Nico brushed some corn silk off his shoulder. "Can we get out of here now?"

Hazel put her hand on Frank’s shoulder. "Are you okay, really? You bartered for our lives. What did Triptolemus make you do?"

Frank tried to hold it together. He scolded himself for feeling so weak. He could face an army of monsters, but as soon as Hazel showed him kindness he wanted to break down and cry. "Those cow monsters … the katoblepones that poisoned you … I had to destroy them."

"That was brave," Nico said. "There must have been, what, six or seven left in that herd."

"No." Frank cleared his throat. "All of them. I killed all of them in the city."

Nico and Hazel stared at him in stunned silence. Frank was afraid they might doubt him, or start to laugh. How many monsters had he killed on that bridge – two hundred? Three hundred?

But he saw in their eyes that they believed him. They were children of the Underworld. Maybe they could sense the death and carnage he’d unleashed.

Hazel kissed his cheek. She had to stand on her tiptoes to do it now. Her eyes were incredibly sad, as if she realized something had changed in Frank – something much more important than the physical growth spurt.

Frank knew it too. He would never be the same. He just wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

"Well," Nico said, breaking the tension, "does anyone know what barley looks like?"

Annabeth remembered Percy’s story about meeting the Titan. Thalia Grace, Nico di Angelo and Percy had worked together to defeat Bob on the banks of the Lethe. After wiping his memory, they didn’t have the heart to kill him. He became so gentle and sweet and cooperative that they left him at the palace of Hades, where Persephone promised he would be looked after.

Frank grunted. "How’s Nico doing?"

She’d been thinking about herself, not Nico, but she followed Frank’s gaze to the top of the foremast, where Nico was perched on the yardarm.

Nico claimed that he liked to keep watch because he had good eyes. Hazel knew that wasn’t the reason. The top of the mast was one of the few places on board where Nico could be alone. The others had offered him the use of Percy’s cabin, since Percy was … well, absent. Nico had adamantly refused. He spent most of his time up in the rigging, where he didn’t have to talk with the rest of the crew.

Since he’d been turned into a corn plant in Venice, he’d only got more reclusive and morose.

"I don’t know," Hazel admitted. "He’s been through a lot. Getting captured in Tartarus, being held prisoner in that bronze jar, watching Percy and Annabeth fall …"

"And promising to lead us to Epirus." Frank nodded. "I get the feeling Nico doesn’t play well with others."

Frank stood up straight. He was wearing a beige T-shirt with a picture of a horse and the words PALIO DI SIENA. He’d only bought it a couple of days ago, but now it was too small. When he stretched, his midriff was exposed.

Hazel realized she was staring. She quickly looked away, her face flushed.

"Nico is my only relative," she said. "He’s not easy to like, but … thanks for being kind to him."

Up in the rigging, Nico’s face was slack with shock.

"Styx – it’s huge!" he yelled. "Port! Go port!"

"There!" Nico yelled from above. "Can you get us to those straits?"

Hazel looked where he was pointing. About half a mile to the east, a long strip of land ran parallel to the coastal cliffs. It was hard to be sure from a distance, but the stretch of water between them looked to be only twenty or thirty yards across – possibly wide enough for the Argo II to slip through, but definitely not wide enough for the giant turtle’s shell.

"Guys!" Nico called down from the mast. "About sailing in the other direction? I don’t think that’s going to work."

He pointed past the prow.

Nico pointed. "There."

A narrow set of steps was carved into the cliff, leading to the top. The turtle, the dead-end channel, the cliff … Hazel got the feeling this was not the first time the letter writer had ambushed a ship here.

She cleared her throat and kept reading aloud: "I do mean all your valuables. Otherwise my turtle and I will destroy you. You have five minutes."

"Use the catapults!" cried the coach.

"P.S." Hazel read, "don’t even think about using your catapults."

"Curse it!" said the coach. "This guy is good."

"Is the note signed?" Nico asked.

"We don’t have much choice," Nico said. "Between that guy and the turtle …"

Jason raised his hand. The others fell silent.

She had no room to turn and look at him. She just had to trust he wouldn’t let her plummet to her death. Since he could fly, he was the only logical backup. Still, she wished it were Frank at her back, or Nico, or Piper, or Leo. Or even … well, okay, maybe not Coach Hedge. But, still, Hazel couldn’t get a read on Jason Grace.

Ever since she’d arrived at Camp Jupiter, she’d heard stories about him. The campers spoke with reverence about the son of Jupiter who’d risen from the lowly ranks of the Fifth Cohort to become praetor, led them to victory in the Battle of Mount Tam, then disappeared. Even now, after all the events of the past couple of weeks, Jason seemed more like a legend than a person. She had a hard time warming to him, with those icy blue eyes and that careful reserve, like he was calculating every word before he said it. Also, she couldn’t forget how he had been ready to write off her brother, Nico, when they’d learned he was a captive in Rome.

Jason had thought Nico was bait for a trap. He had been right. And maybe, now that Nico was safe, Hazel could see why Jason’s caution was a good idea. Still, she didn’t quite know what to think of the guy. What if they got themselves into trouble at the top of this cliff and Jason decided that saving Hazel wasn’t in the best interest of the quest?

She had a good instinct for people too. She understood what motivated most of her friends – even her brother, Nico, who wasn’t easy to read.

But Jason? She didn’t have a clue. Everybody said he was a natural leader. She believed it. Here he was, making her feel like a valued member of the team, telling her she was capable of anything. But what was Jason capable of?

She couldn’t talk to anyone about her doubts. Frank was in awe of the guy. Piper, of course, was head-over-heels. Leo was his best friend. Even Nico seemed to follow his lead without question.

"No," Bob murmured. His lower lip quivered. "The other one did."

Percy’s thoughts moved sluggishly. "The other one?"

"Nico." Bob scowled at him, his eyes full of hurt. "Nico visited. Told me about Percy. Said Percy was good. Said he was a friend. That is why Bob helped."

"But …" Percy’s voice disintegrated like someone had hit it with a Celestial bronze blade. He’d never felt so low and dishonourable, so unworthy of having a friend.

This must have been the way Nico had seen Tartarus, and it had almost destroyed his sanity. Nico … one of the many people Percy hadn’t treated well enough. He and Annabeth had only made it this far through Tartarus because Nico di Angelo had behaved like Bob’s true friend.

"I promised," he murmured. "Nico asked me to help. I do not think Iapetus or Bob likes breaking promises." He touched Percy’s forehead.

"Dalmatia," Nico said, making Jason jump.

Holy Romulus … Jason wished he could put a bell around Nico di Angelo’s neck to remind him the guy was there. Nico had this disturbing habit of standing silently in the corner, blending into the shadows.

He stepped forward, his dark eyes fixed on Jason. Since they’d rescued him from the bronze jar in Rome, Nico had slept very little and eaten even less, as if he were still subsisting on those emergency pomegranate seeds from the Underworld. He reminded Jason a little too much of a flesh-eating ghoul he’d once fought in San Bernardino.

"Croatia used to be Dalmatia," Nico said. "A major Roman province. You want to visit Diocletian’s Palace, don’t you?"

Coach Hedge managed another heroic belch. "Whose palace? And is Dalmatia where those Dalmatian dogs come from? That 101 Dalmatians movie – I still have nightmares."

Frank scratched his head. "Why would you have nightmares about that?"

Coach Hedge looked like he was about to launch into a major speech about the evils of cartoon Dalmatians, but Jason decided he didn’t want to know.

"Nico is right," he said. "I need to go to Diocletian’s Palace. It’s where Reyna will go first, because she knows I would go there."

Piper raised an eyebrow. "And why would Reyna think that? Because you’ve always had a mad fascination with Croatian culture?"

Nico leaned over and plucked a grape. Probably that was the guy’s entire diet for the day. "It’s said to be haunted by the ghost of Diocletian."

"Who was a son of Jupiter, like me," Jason said. "His tomb was destroyed centuries ago, but Reyna and I used to wonder if we could find Diocletian’s ghost and ask where he was buried … well, according to the legends, his sceptre was buried with him."

Nico gave him a thin, creepy smile. "Ah … that legend."

"What legend?" Hazel asked.

Nico turned to his sister. "Supposedly Diocletian’s sceptre could summon the ghosts of the Roman legions, any of them who worshipped the old gods."

Leo whistled. "Okay, now I’m interested. Be nice to have a booty-kicking army of pagan zombies on our side when we enter the House of Hades."

Nico nodded. "The sceptre of Diocletian could make a huge difference. You’ll need my help."

Jason tried not to show his discomfort, but his skin prickled at the thought of going anywhere with Nico di Angelo.

Percy had shared some disturbing stories about Nico. His loyalties weren’t always clear. He spent more time with the dead than the living. Once, he’d lured Percy into a trap in the palace of Hades. Maybe Nico had made up for that by helping the Greeks against the Titans, but still …

Piper squeezed his hand. "Hey, sounds fun. I’ll go, too."

Jason wanted to yell: _Thank the gods!_

But Nico shook his head. "You can’t, Piper. It should only be Jason and me. Diocletian’s ghost might appear for a son of Jupiter, but any other demigods would most likely … ah, spook him. And I’m the only one who can talk to his spirit. Even Hazel won’t be able to do that."

Nico’s eyes held a gleam of challenge. He seemed curious as to whether or not Jason would protest.

The ship’s bell sounded. Festus creaked and whirred over the loudspeaker.

"We’ve arrived," Leo announced. "Time to Split."

Frank groaned. "Can we leave Valdez in Croatia?"

Jason stood. "Frank, you’re in charge of defending the ship. Leo, you’ve got repairs to do. The rest of you, help out wherever you can. Nico and I …" He faced the son of Hades. "We have a ghost to find."

The Argo II had anchored in the bay along with six or seven cruise ships. As usual, the mortals didn’t pay the trireme any attention, but, just to be safe, Jason and Nico hopped on a skiff from one of the tourist boats so they would look like part of the crowd when they came ashore.

Nico and he were wandering along the esplanade when Jason spotted a guy with wings buying an ice-cream bar from a street cart. The vendor lady looked bored as she counted the guy’s change. Tourists navigated around the angel’s huge wings without a second glance.

Jason nudged Nico. ‘Are you seeing this?’

‘Yeah,’ Nico agreed. ‘Maybe we should buy some ice cream.’

As they made their way towards the street cart, Jason worried that this winged dude might be a son of Boreas the North Wind. At his side, the angel carried the same kind of jagged bronze sword the Boreads had, and Jason’s last encounter with them hadn’t gone so well. But this guy seemed more chill than chilly. He wore a red tank top, Bermuda shorts and huarache sandals. His wings were a combination of russet colours, like a bantam rooster or a lazy sunset. He had a deep tan and black hair almost as curly as Leo’s.

‘He’s not a returned spirit,’ Nico murmured. ‘Or a creature of the Underworld.’

‘No,’ Jason agreed. ‘I doubt they would eat chocolate-covered ice-cream bars.’

‘So what is he?’ Nico wondered.

They got within thirty feet, and the winged dude looked directly at them. He smiled, gestured over his shoulder with his ice-cream bar and dissolved into the air.

Jason couldn’t exactly see him, but he’d had enough experience controlling the wind that he could track the angel’s path – a warm wisp of red and gold zipping across the street, spiralling down the sidewalk and blowing postcards from the carousels in front of the tourist shops. The wind headed towards the end of the promenade, where a big fortress-like structure loomed.

‘I’m betting that’s the palace,’ Jason said. ‘Come on.’

Even after two millennia, Diocletian’s Palace was still impressive. The outer wall was only a pink granite shell, with crumbling columns and arched windows open to the sky, but it was mostly intact, a quarter mile long and seventy or eighty feet tall, dwarfing the modern shops and houses that huddled beneath it. Jason imagined what the palace must have looked like when it was newly built, with Imperial guards walking the ramparts and the golden eagles of Rome glinting on the parapets. The wind angel – or whatever he was – whisked in and out of the pink granite windows, then disappeared on the other side. Jason scanned the palace’s facade for an entrance. The only one he saw was several blocks away, with tourists lined up to buy tickets. No time for that.

‘We’ve got to catch him,’ Jason said. ‘Hold on.’

‘But –’

Jason grabbed Nico and lifted them both into the air.

Nico made a muffled sound of protest as they soared over the walls and into a courtyard where more tourists were milling around, taking pictures.

A little kid did a double take when they landed. Then his eyes glazed over and he shook his head, like he was dismissing a juice-box-induced hallucination. No one else paid them any attention. On the left side of the courtyard stood a line of columns holding up weathered grey arches. On the right side was a white marble building with rows of tall windows.

‘The peristyle,’ Nico said. ‘This was the entrance to Diocletian’s private residence.’ He scowled at Jason. ‘And, please, I don’t like being touched. Don’t ever grab me again.’

Jason’s shoulder blades tensed. He thought he heard the undertone of a threat, like: unless you want to get a Stygian sword up your nose. ‘Uh, okay. Sorry. How do you know what this place is called?’

Nico scanned the atrium. He focused on some steps in the far corner, leading down.

‘I’ve been here before.’ His eyes were as dark as his blade. ‘With my mother and Bianca. A weekend trip from Venice. I was maybe … six?’

‘That was when … the 1930s?’

‘’Thirty-eight or so,’ Nico said absently. ‘Why do you care? Do you see that winged guy anywhere?’

‘No …’ Jason was still trying to wrap his mind around Nico’s past.

Jason always tried to build a good relationship with the people on his team. He’d learned the hard way that if somebody was going to have your back in a fight it was better if you found some common ground and trusted each other. But Nico wasn’t easy to figure out. ‘I just … I can’t imagine how weird that must be, coming from another time.’

‘No, you can’t.’ Nico stared at the stone floor. He took a deep breath. ‘Look … I don’t like talking about it. Honestly, I think Hazel has it worse. She remembers more about when she was young. She had to come back from the dead and adjust to the modern world. Me … me and Bianca, we were stuck at the Lotus Hotel. Time passed so quickly. In a weird way, that made the transition easier.’

‘Percy told me about that place,’ Jason said. ‘Seventy years, but it only felt like a month?’

Nico clenched his fist until his fingers turned white. ‘Yeah. I’m sure Percy told you all about me.’ His voice was heavy with bitterness – more than Jason could understand. He knew that Nico had blamed Percy for getting his sister Bianca killed, but they’d supposedly got past that, at least according to Percy. Piper had also mentioned a rumour that Nico had a crush on Annabeth. Maybe that was part of it.

Still … Jason didn’t get why Nico pushed people away, why he never spent much time at either camp, why he preferred the dead to the living. He really didn’t get why Nico had promised to lead the Argo II to Epirus if he hated Percy Jackson so much.

Nico’s eyes swept the windows above them. ‘Roman dead are everywhere here … Lares. Lemures. They’re watching. They’re angry.’

‘At us?’ Jason’s hand went to his sword.

‘At everything.’ Nico pointed to a small stone building on the west end of the courtyard. ‘That used to be a temple to Jupiter. The Christians changed it to a baptistery. The Roman ghosts don’t like that.’

Jason stared at the dark doorway.

He’d never met Jupiter, but he thought of his father as a living person – the guy who’d fallen in love with his mom. Of course he knew his dad was immortal, but somehow the full meaning of that had never really sunk in until now as he stared at a doorway Romans had walked through, thousands of years ago, to worship his dad. The idea gave Jason a splitting headache.

‘And over there …’ Nico pointed east to a hexagonal building ringed with freestanding columns. ‘That was the mausoleum of the emperor.’

‘But his tomb isn’t there any more,’ Jason guessed.

‘Not for centuries,’ Nico said. ‘When the empire collapsed, the building was turned into a Christian cathedral.’

Jason swallowed. ‘So if Diocletian’s ghost is still around here –’

‘He’s probably not happy.’

The wind rustled, pushing leaves and food wrappers across the peristyle. In the corner of his eye, Jason caught a glimpse of movement – a blur of red and gold. When he turned, a single rust-coloured feather was settling on the steps that led down.

‘That way.’ Jason pointed. ‘The winged guy. Where do you think those stairs lead?’ Nico drew his sword. His smile was even more unsettling than his scowl. ‘Underground,’ he said. ‘My favourite place.’

Underground was not Jason’s favourite place.

Ever since his trip beneath Rome with Piper and Percy, fighting those twin giants in the hypogeum under the Colosseum, most of his nightmares had been about basements, trapdoors and large hamsterwheels. Having Nico along was not reassuring. His Stygian iron blade seemed to make the shadows even gloomier, as if the infernal metal were drawing the light and heat out of the air.

They crept through a vast cellar with thick support columns holding up a vaulted ceiling. The limestone blocks were so old they had fused together from centuries of moisture, making the place look almost like a naturally formed cave.

None of the tourists had ventured down here. Obviously, they were smarter than demigods. Jason drew his gladius. They made their way under the low archways, their steps echoing on the stone floor. Barred windows lined the top of one wall, facing the street level, but that just made the cellar feel more claustrophobic. The shafts of sunlight looked like slanted prison bars, swirling with ancient dust.

Jason passed a support beam, looked to his left and almost had a heart attack. Staring right at him was a marble bust of Diocletian, his limestone face glowering with disapproval.

Jason steadied his breathing. This seemed like a good place to leave the note he’d written for Reyna, telling her of their route to Epirus. It was away from the crowds, but he trusted Reyna would find it. She had the instincts of a hunter. He slipped the note between the bust and its pedestal and stepped back.

Diocletian’s marble eyes made him jumpy. Jason couldn’t help thinking of Terminus, the talking statue-god back at New Rome. He hoped Diocletian wouldn’t bark at him or suddenly burst into song.

‘Hello!’

Before Jason could register that the voice had come from somewhere else, he sliced off the emperor’s head. The bust toppled and shattered against the floor.

‘That wasn’t very nice,’ said the voice behind them.

Jason turned. The winged man from the ice-cream stand was leaning against a nearby column, casually tossing a small bronze hoop in the air. At his feet sat a wicker picnic basket full of fruit.

‘I mean,’ the man said, ‘what did Diocletian ever do to you?’

The air swirled around Jason’s feet. The shards of marble gathered into a miniature tornado, spiralled back to the pedestal and reassembled into a complete bust, the note still tucked underneath.

‘Uh –’ Jason lowered his sword. ‘It was an accident. You startled me.’

The winged dude chuckled. ‘Jason Grace, the West Wind has been called many things … warm, gentle, life-giving and devilishly handsome. But I have never been called startling. I leave that crass behaviour to my gusty brethren in the north.’

Nico inched backwards. ‘The West Wind? You mean you’re –’

‘Favonius,’ Jason realized. ‘God of the West Wind.’

Favonius smiled and bowed, obviously pleased to be recognized. ‘You can call me by my Roman name, certainly, or Zephyros, if you’re Greek. I’m not hung up about it.’

Nico looked pretty hung up about it. ‘Why aren’t your Greek and Roman sides in conflict, like the other gods?’

‘Oh, I have the occasional headache.’ Favonius shrugged. ‘Some mornings I’ll wake up in a Greek chiton when I’m sure I went to sleep in my SPQR pyjamas. But mostly the war doesn’t bother me. I’m a minor god, you know – never really been much in the limelight. The to-and-fro battles among you demigods don’t affect me as greatly.’

‘So …’ Jason wasn’t quite sure whether to sheathe his sword. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Several things!’ Favonius said. ‘Hanging out with my basket of fruit. I always carry a basket of fruit. Would you like a pear?’

‘I’m good. Thanks.’

‘Let’s see … earlier I was eating ice cream. Right now I’m tossing this quoit ring.’ Favonius spun the bronze hoop on his index finger.

Jason had no idea what a quoit was, but he tried to stay focused. ‘I mean why did you appear to us? Why did you lead us to this cellar?’

‘Oh!’ Favonius nodded. ‘The sarcophagus of Diocletian. Yes. This was its final resting place. The Christians moved it out of the mausoleum. Then some barbarians destroyed the coffin. I just wanted to show you –’ he spread his hands sadly – ‘that what you’re looking for isn’t here. My master has taken it.’

‘Your master?’ Jason had a flashback to a floating palace above Pike’s Peak in Colorado, where he’d visited (and barely survived) the studio of a crazy weatherman who claimed he was the god of all the winds. ‘Please tell me your master isn’t Aeolus.’

‘That airhead?’ Favonius snorted. ‘No, of course not.’

‘He means Eros.’ Nico’s voice turned edgy. ‘Cupid, in Latin.’

Favonius smiled. ‘Very good, Nico di Angelo. I’m glad to see you again, by the way. It’s been a long time.’

Nico knitted his eyebrows. ‘I’ve never met you.’

‘You’ve never seen me,’ the god corrected. ‘But I’ve been watching you. When you came here as a small boy, and several times since. I knew eventually you would return to look upon my master’s face.’

Nico turned even paler than usual. His eyes darted around the cavernous room as if he was starting to feel trapped.

‘Nico?’ Jason said. ‘What’s he talking about?’

‘I don’t know. Nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ Favonius cried. ‘The one you care for most … plunged into Tartarus, and still you will not allow the truth?’

Suddenly Jason felt like he was eavesdropping.

The one you care for most.

He remembered what Piper had told him about Nico’s crush on Annabeth. Apparently Nico’s feelings went way deeper than a simple crush.

‘We’ve only come for Diocletian’s sceptre,’ Nico said, clearly anxious to change the subject. ‘Where is it?’

‘Ah …’ Favonius nodded sadly. ‘You thought it would be as easy as facing Diocletian’s ghost? I’m afraid not, Nico. Your trials will be much more difficult. You know, long before this was Diocletian’s Palace, it was the gateway to my master’s court. I’ve dwelt here for aeons, bringing those who sought love into the presence of Cupid.’

Jason didn’t like the mention of difficult trials. He didn’t trust this weird god with the hoop and the wings and the basket of fruit. But an old story surfaced in his mind – something he’d heard at Camp Jupiter. ‘Like Psyche, Cupid’s wife. You carried her to his palace.’

Favonius’s eyes twinkled. ‘Very good, Jason Grace. From this exact spot, I carried Psyche on the winds and brought her to the chambers of my master. In fact, that is why Diocletian built his palace here. This place has always been graced by the gentle West Wind.’ He spread his arms. ‘It is a spot of tranquillity and love in a turbulent world. When Diocletian’s Palace was ransacked –’

‘You took the sceptre,’ Jason guessed.

‘For safekeeping,’ Favonius agreed. ‘It is one of Cupid’s many treasures, a reminder of better times. If you want it …’ Favonius turned to Nico. ‘You must face the god of love.’

Nico stared at the sunlight coming through the windows, as if wishing he could escape through those narrow openings.

Jason wasn’t sure what Favonius wanted, but if facing the god of love meant forcing Nico into some sort of confession about which girl he liked, that didn’t seem so bad.

‘Nico, you can do this,’ Jason said. ‘It might be embarrassing, but it’s for the sceptre.’

Nico didn’t look convinced. In fact he looked like he was going to be sick. But he squared his shoulders and nodded. ‘You’re right. I – I’m not afraid of a love god.’

Favonius beamed. ‘Excellent! Would you like a snack before you go?’ He plucked a green apple from his basket and frowned at it. ‘Oh, bluster. I keep forgetting my symbol is a basket of unripe fruit. Why doesn’t the spring wind get more credit? Summer has all the fun.’

‘That’s okay,’ Nico said quickly. ‘Just take us to Cupid.’

Favonius spun the hoop on his finger, and Jason’s body dissolved into air.

Jason could sense Nico’s presence nearby. The West Wind carried them into the sky above Split. Together they raced over the hills, past Roman aqueducts, highways and vineyards. As they approached the mountains, Jason saw the ruins of a Roman town spread out in a valley below – crumbling walls, square foundations and cracked roads, all overgrown with grass – so it looked like a giant, mossy game board.

‘I don’t need to.’ Favonius tossed his bronze hoop in the air. ‘Everyone has the wrong impression of Cupid … until they meet him.’

Nico braced himself against a column, his legs trembling visibly.

‘Hey, man …’ Jason stepped towards him, but Nico waved him off.

At Nico’s feet, the grass turned brown and wilted. The dead patch spread outwards, as if poison were seeping from the soles of his shoes.

‘Ah …’ Favonius nodded sympathetically. ‘I don’t blame you for being nervous, Nico di Angelo. Do you know how I ended up serving Cupid?’

‘I don’t serve anyone,’ Nico muttered. ‘Especially not Cupid.’

Favonius continued as if he hadn’t heard. ‘I fell in love with a mortal named Hyacinthus. He was quite extraordinary.’

‘He …?’ Jason’s brain was still fuzzy from his wind trip, so it took him a second to process that. ‘Oh …’

‘Yes, Jason Grace.’ Favonius arched an eyebrow. ‘I fell in love with a dude. Does that shock you?’

Honestly, Jason wasn’t sure. He tried not to think about the details of godly love lives, no matter who they fell in love with. After all, his dad, Jupiter, wasn’t exactly a model of good behaviour. Compared to some of the Olympian love scandals he’d heard about, the West Wind falling in love with a mortal guy didn’t seem very shocking. ‘I guess not. So … Cupid struck you with his arrow, and you fell in love.’

Favonius snorted. ‘You make it sound so simple. Alas, love is never simple. You see, the god Apollo also liked Hyacinthus. He claimed they were just friends. I don’t know. But one day I came across them together, playing a game of quoits –’

There was that weird word again. ‘Quoits?’

‘A game with those hoops,’ Nico explained, though his voice was brittle. ‘Like horseshoes.’

‘Sort of,’ Favonius said. ‘At any rate, I was jealous. Instead of confronting them and finding out the truth, I shifted the wind and sent a heavy metal ring right at Hyacinthus’s head and … well.’ The wind god sighed. ‘As Hyacinthus died, Apollo turned him into a flower, the hyacinth. I’m sure Apollo would’ve taken horrible vengeance on me, but Cupid offered me his protection. I’d done a terrible thing, but I’d been driven mad by love, so he spared me, on the condition that I work for him forever.’

CUPID.

The name echoed through the ruins again.

‘That would be my cue.’ Favonius stood. ‘Think long and hard about how you proceed, Nico di Angelo. You cannot lie to Cupid. If you let your anger rule you … well, your fate will be even sadder than mine.’

Jason felt like his brain was turning back into wind. He didn’t understand what Favonius was talking about or why Nico seemed so shaken, but he had no time to think about it. The wind god disappeared in a swirl of red and gold. The summer air suddenly felt oppressive. The ground shook, and Jason and Nico drew their swords.

So.

The voice rushed past Jason’s ear like a bullet. When he turned, no one was there. You come to claim the sceptre.

Nico stood at his back, and for once Jason was glad to have the guy’s company.

‘Cupid,’ Jason called, ‘where are you?’

The voice laughed. It definitely didn’t sound like a cute baby angel’s. It sounded deep and rich, but also threatening – like a tremor before a major earthquake.

Where you least expect me, Cupid answered. As Love always is.

Something slammed into Jason and hurled him across the street. He toppled down a set of steps and sprawled on the floor of an excavated Roman basement.

I would think you’d know better, Jason Grace. Cupid’s voice whirled around him. You’ve found true love, after all. Or do you still doubt yourself?

Nico scrambled down the steps. ‘You okay?’

Jason accepted his hand and got to his feet. ‘Yeah. Just sucker punched.’

Oh, did you expect me to play fair? Cupid laughed. I am the god of love. I am never fair.

This time, Jason’s senses were on high alert. He felt the air ripple just as an arrow materialized, racing towards Nico’s chest.

Jason intercepted it with his sword and deflected it sideways. The arrow exploded against the nearest wall, peppering them with limestone shrapnel.

They ran up the steps. Jason pulled Nico to one side as another gust of wind toppled a column that would have crushed him flat.

‘Is this guy Love or Death?’ Jason growled.

Ask your friends, Cupid said. Frank, Hazel and Percy met my counterpart, Thanatos. We are not so different. Except Death is sometimes kinder.

‘We just want the sceptre!’ Nico shouted. ‘We’re trying to stop Gaia. Are you on the gods’ side or not?’

A second arrow hit the ground between Nico’s feet and glowed white-hot. Nico stumbled back as the arrow burst into a geyser of flame.

Love is on every side, Cupid said. And no one’s side. Don’t ask what Love can do for you.

‘Great,’ Jason said. ‘Now he’s spouting greeting card messages.’

Movement behind him: Jason spun, slicing his sword through the air. His blade bit into something solid. He heard a grunt and he swung again, but the invisible god was gone. On the paving stones, a trail of golden ichor shimmered – the blood of the gods.

Very good, Jason, Cupid said. At least you can sense my presence. Even a glancing hit at true love is more than most heroes manage.  
‘

So now I get the sceptre?’ Jason asked.

Cupid laughed. Unfortunately, you could not wield it. Only a child of the Underworld can summon the dead legions. And only an officer of Rome can lead them.

‘But …’ Jason wavered. He was an officer. He was praetor. Then he remembered all his second thoughts about where he belonged. In New Rome, he’d offered to give up his position to Percy Jackson. Did that make him unworthy to lead a legion of Roman ghosts? He decided to face that problem when the time came.

‘Just leave that to us,’ he said. ‘Nico can summon –’

The third arrow zipped by Jason’s shoulder. He couldn’t stop it in time. Nico gasped as it sank into his sword arm.

‘Nico!’

The son of Hades stumbled. The arrow dissolved, leaving no blood and no visible wound, but Nico’s face was tight with rage and pain.

‘Enough games!’ Nico shouted. ‘Show yourself!’

It is a costly thing, Cupid said, looking on the true face of Love.

Another column toppled. Jason scrambled out of its way.

My wife Psyche learned that lesson, Cupid said. She was brought here aeons ago, when this was the site of my palace. We met only in the dark. She was warned never to look upon me, and yet she could not stand the mystery. She feared I was a monster. One night, she lit a candle, and beheld my face as I slept.

‘Were you that ugly?’ Jason thought he had zeroed in on Cupid’s voice – at the edge of the amphitheatre about twenty yards away – but he wanted to make sure.

The god laughed. I was too handsome, I’m afraid. A mortal cannot gaze upon the true appearance of a god without suffering consequences. My mother, Aphrodite, cursed Psyche for her distrust. My poor lover was tormented, forced into exile, given horrible tasks to prove her worth. She was even sent to the Underworld on a quest to show her dedication. She earned her way back to my side, but she suffered greatly.

Now I’ve got you, Jason thought.

He thrust his sword in the sky and thunder shook the valley. Lightning blasted a crater where the voice had been speaking.

Silence. Jason was just thinking, Dang, it actually worked, when an invisible force knocked him to the ground. His sword skittered across the road.

A good try, Cupid said, his voice already distant. But Love cannot be pinned down so easily.

Next to him, a wall collapsed. Jason barely managed to roll aside.

‘Stop it!’ Nico yelled. ‘It’s me you want. Leave him alone!’

Jason’s ears rang. He was dizzy from getting smacked around. His mouth tasted like limestone dust. He didn’t understand why Nico would think of himself as the main target, but Cupid seemed to agree.

Poor Nico di Angelo. The god’s voice was tinged with disappointment. Do you know what you want, much less what I want? My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love. It was the only way to atone for her lack of faith. And you – what have you risked in my name?

‘I’ve been to Tartarus and back,’ Nico snarled. ‘You don’t scare me.’

I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.

Jason pulled himself up.

All around Nico, the ground shifted. The grass withered, and the stones cracked as if something was moving in the earth beneath, trying to push its way through.

‘Give us Diocletian’s sceptre,’ Nico said. ‘We don’t have time for games.’

Games? Cupid struck, slapping Nico sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work – a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you – especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards.

Jason retrieved his sword. If this invisible guy was Love, Jason was beginning to think Love was overrated. He liked Piper’s version better – considerate, kind and beautiful. Aphrodite he could understand. Cupid seemed more like a thug, an enforcer.

‘Nico,’ he called, ‘what does this guy want from you?’

Tell him, Nico di Angelo, Cupid said. Tell him you are a coward, afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him the real reason you ran from Camp Half-Blood, and why you are always alone.

Nico let loose a guttural scream. The ground at his feet split open and skeletons crawled forth – dead Romans with missing hands and caved-in skulls, cracked ribs and jaws unhinged. Some were dressed in the remnants of togas. Others had glinting pieces of armour hanging off their chests.

Will you hide among the dead, as you always do? Cupid taunted.

Waves of darkness rolled off the son of Hades. When they hit Jason, he almost lost consciousness – overwhelmed by hatred and fear and shame …

Images flashed through his mind. He saw Nico and his sister on a snowy cliff in Maine, Percy Jackson protecting them from a manticore. Percy’s sword gleamed in the dark. He’d been the first demigod Nico had ever seen in action.

Later, at Camp Half-Blood, Percy took Nico by the arm, promising to keep his sister Bianca safe. Nico had believed him. Nico had looked into his sea-green eyes and thought, How can he possibly fail? This is a real hero. He was Nico’s favourite game, Mythomagic, brought to life.

Jason saw the moment when Percy returned and told Nico that Bianca was dead. Nico had screamed and called him a liar. He’d felt betrayed, but still … when the skeleton warriors attacked, he couldn’t let them harm Percy. Nico had called on the earth to swallow them up, and then he’d run away – terrified of his own powers, and his own emotions.

Jason saw a dozen more scenes like this from Nico’s point of view … And they left him stunned, unable to move or speak.

Meanwhile, Nico’s Roman skeletons surged forward and grappled with something invisible. The god struggled, flinging the dead aside, breaking off ribs and skulls, but the skeletons kept coming, pinning the god’s arms.

Interesting! Cupid said. Do you have the strength, after all?

‘I left Camp Half-Blood because of love,’ Nico said. ‘Annabeth … she –’

Still hiding, Cupid said, smashing another skeleton to pieces. You do not have the strength.

‘Nico,’ Jason managed to say, ‘it’s okay. I get it.’

Nico glanced over, pain and misery washing across his face.

‘No, you don’t,’ he said. ‘There’s no way you can understand.’

And so you run away again, Cupid chided. From your friends, from yourself.

‘I don’t have friends!’ Nico yelled. ‘I left Camp Half-Blood because I don’t belong! I’ll never belong!’

The skeletons had Cupid pinned now, but the invisible god laughed so cruelly that Jason wanted to summon another bolt of lightning. Unfortunately, he doubted he had the strength.

‘Leave him alone, Cupid,’ Jason croaked. ‘This isn’t …’

His voice failed. He wanted to say it wasn’t Cupid’s business, but he realized this was exactly Cupid’s business. Something Favonius said kept buzzing in his ears: Are you shocked?

The story of Psyche finally made sense to him – why a mortal girl would be so afraid. Why she would risk breaking the rules to look the god of love in the face, because she feared he might be a monster.

Psyche had been right. Cupid was a monster. Love was the most savage monster of all.

Nico’s voice was like broken glass. ‘I – I wasn’t in love with Annabeth.’

‘You were jealous of her,’ Jason said. ‘That’s why you didn’t want to be around her. Especially why you didn’t want to be around … him. It makes total sense.’

All the fight and denial seemed to go out of Nico at once. The darkness subsided. The Roman dead collapsed into bones and crumbled to dust.

‘I hated myself,’ Nico said. ‘I hated Percy Jackson.’

Cupid became visible – a lean, muscular young man with snowy white wings, straight black hair, a simple white frock and jeans. The bow and quiver slung over his shoulder were no toys – they were weapons of war. His eyes were as red as blood, as if every valentine in the world had been squeezed dry, distilled into one poisonous mixture. His face was handsome, but also harsh – as difficult to look at as a spotlight. He watched Nico with satisfaction, as if he’d identified the exact spot for his next arrow to make a clean kill.

‘I had a crush on Percy,’ Nico spat. ‘That’s the truth. That’s the big secret.’

He glared at Cupid. ‘Happy now?’

For the first time, Cupid’s gaze seemed sympathetic. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say Love always makes you happy.’ His voice sounded smaller, much more human. ‘Sometimes it makes you incredibly sad. But at least you’ve faced it now. That’s the only way to conquer me.’

Cupid dissolved into the wind.

On the ground where he’d stood lay an ivory staff three feet long, topped with a dark globe of polished marble about the size of a baseball, nestled on the backs of three gold Roman eagles. The sceptre of Diocletian.

Nico knelt and picked it up. He regarded Jason, as if waiting for an attack. ‘If the others found out–’

‘If the others found out,’ Jason said, ‘you’d have that many more people to back you up and to unleash the fury of the gods on anybody who gives you trouble.’

Nico scowled. Jason still felt the resentment and anger rippling off him.

‘But it’s your call,’ Jason added. ‘Your decision to share or not. I can only tell you –’

‘I don’t feel that way any more,’ Nico muttered. ‘I mean … I gave up on Percy. I was young and impressionable, and I – I don’t …’

His voice cracked, and Jason could tell the guy was about to get teary-eyed. Whether Nico had really given up on Percy or not, Jason couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Nico all those years, keeping a secret that would’ve been unthinkable to share in the 1940s, denying who he was, feeling completely alone – even more isolated than other demigods.

‘Nico,’ he said gently, ‘I’ve seen a lot of brave things. But what you just did? That was maybe the bravest.’

Nico looked up uncertainly. ‘We should get back to the ship.’

‘Yeah. I can fly us –’

‘No,’ Nico announced. ‘This time we’re shadow-travelling. I’ve had enough of the winds for a while.’

She thought about what the arai had said – how Nico di Angelo had been the only person to visit Bob in the palace of the Underworld. Nico was one of the least outgoing, least friendly demigods Annabeth knew. Yet he’d been kind to Bob. By convincing Bob that Percy was a friend, Nico had inadvertently saved their lives. Annabeth wondered if she would ever figure that guy out.

‘It’s the sceptre,’ Nico murmured, hefting the ancient staff. ‘It has to be.’

Piper wondered. Ever since Jason and Nico had returned from Diocletian’s Palace, they’d been acting nervous and cagey. Something major had happened there – something Jason wouldn’t share with her.

‘Need to –’ Hazel gagged and pointed below.

‘Yeah, go.’ Nico kissed her cheek, which Piper found surprising. He hardly ever made gestures of affection, even to his sister. He seemed to hate physical contact. Kissing Hazel … it was almost like he was saying goodbye.

‘I’ll walk you down.’ Frank put his arm around Hazel’s waist and helped her to the stairs.

Piper hoped Hazel would be okay. The last few nights, since that fight with Sciron, they’d had some good talks together. Being the only two girls on board was kind of rough. They’d shared stories, complained about the guys’ gross habits and shed some tears together about Annabeth. Hazel had told her what it was like to control the Mist, and Piper had been surprised by how much it sounded like using charmspeak. Piper had offered to help her if she could. In return, Hazel had promised to coach her in sword fighting – a skill at which Piper epically sucked. Piper felt like she had a new friend, which was great … assuming they lived long enough to enjoy the friendship.

Nico brushed some ice from his hair. He frowned at the sceptre of Diocletian. ‘I should put this thing away. If it’s really causing the weather, maybe taking it below deck will help …’

‘Sure,’ Jason said.

Nico glanced at Piper and Leo, as if worried what they might say when he was gone. Piper felt his defences going up, like he was curling into a psychological ball, the way he’d gone into a death trance in that bronze jar.

Once he’d headed below, Piper studied Jason’s face. His eyes were full of concern. What had happened in Croatia?

Jason squeezed her shoulder. ‘Hey, it’ll be fine. We’re close to Epirus now. Another day or so, if Nico’s directions are right.’

‘In Katoptris,’ she started, ‘I keep seeing that giant Clytius – the guy who’s wrapped in shadows. I know his weakness is fire, but in my visions he snuffs out flames wherever he goes. Any kind of light just gets sucked into his cloud of darkness.’

‘Sounds like Nico,’ Leo said. ‘You think they’re related?’

Jason scowled. ‘Hey, man, cut Nico some slack. So, Piper, what about this giant? What are you thinking?’

She and Leo exchanged a quizzical look, like: Since when does Jason defend Nico di Angelo? She decided not to comment.

He shivered. No. That was the pit speaking to him, sapping his resolve. He wondered how Nico had survived down here alone without going insane. That kid had more strength than Percy had given him credit for. The deeper they travelled, the harder it became to stay focused.

The goddess’s chariot was made of the same material as Nico di Angelo’s sword – Stygian iron – pulled by two massive horses, all black except for their pointed silver fangs. The beasts’ legs floated in the abyss, turning from solid to smoke as they moved.

She saw Nico’s sister, Bianca di Angelo, dying in the collapse of the metal giant Talos because she also had tried to save Annabeth.

A rustling sound made him turn. Nico di Angelo stood in the shadow of the nearest column. He’d shed his jacket. Now he just wore his black T-shirt and black jeans. His sword and the sceptre of Diocletian hung on either side of his belt.

Days in the hot sun hadn’t tanned his skin. If anything, he looked paler. His dark hair fell over his eyes. His face was still gaunt, but he was definitely in better shape than when they’d left Croatia. He had regained enough weight not to look starved. His arms were surprisingly taut with muscles, as if he’d spent the past week sword fighting. For all Jason knew, he’d been slipping off to practise raising spirits with Diocletian’s sceptre, then sparring with them. After their expedition in Split, nothing would surprise him.

‘Any word from the king?’ Nico asked.

Jason shook his head. ‘Every day, he calls for me later and later.’

‘We need to leave,’ Nico said. ‘Soon.’

Jason had been having the same feeling, but hearing Nico say it made him even edgier. ‘You sense something?’

‘Percy is close to the Doors,’ Nico said. ‘He’ll need us if he’s going to make it through alive.’

Jason noticed that he didn’t mention Annabeth. He decided not to bring that up.

‘All right,’ Jason said. ‘But if we can’t repair the ship –’

‘I promised I’d lead you to the House of Hades,’ Nico said. ‘One way or another, I will.’

‘You can’t shadow-travel with all of us. And it will take all of us to reach the Doors of Death.’ The orb at the end of Diocletian’s sceptre glowed purple. Over the past week, it seemed to have aligned itself to Nico di Angelo’s moods. Jason wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

‘Then you’ve got to convince the king of the South Wind to help.’ Nico’s voice seethed with anger. ‘I didn’t come all this way, suffer so many humiliations …’

Jason had to make a conscious effort not to reach for his sword. Whenever Nico got angry, all of Jason’s instincts screamed Danger!

‘Look, Nico,’ he said, ‘I’m here if you want to talk about, you know, what happened in Croatia. I get how difficult –’

‘You don’t get anything.’

‘Nobody’s going to judge you.’

Nico’s mouth twisted in a sneer. ‘Really? That would be a first. I’m the son of Hades, Jason. I might as well be covered in blood or sewage, the way people treat me. I don’t belong anywhere. I’m not even from this century. But even that’s not enough to set me apart. I’ve got to be – to be –’

‘Dude! It’s not like you’ve got a choice. It’s just who you are.’

‘Just who I am …’ The balcony trembled. Patterns shifted in the stone floor, like bones coming to the surface. ‘Easy for you to say. You’re everybody’s golden boy, the son of Jupiter. The only person who ever accepted me was Bianca, and she died! I didn’t choose any of this. My father, my feelings …’

Jason tried to think of something to say. He wanted to be Nico’s friend. He knew that was the only way to help. But Nico wasn’t making it easy.

He raised his hands in submission. ‘Yeah, okay. But, Nico, you do choose how to live your life. You want to trust somebody? Maybe take a risk that I’m really your friend and I’ll accept you. It’s better than hiding.’

The floor cracked between them. The crevice hissed. The air around Nico shimmered with spectral light.

‘Hiding?’ Nico’s voice was deadly quiet.

Jason’s fingers itched to draw his sword. He’d met plenty of scary demigods, but he was starting to realize that Nico di Angelo – as pale and gaunt as he looked – might be more than he could handle.

Nevertheless, he held Nico’s gaze. ‘Yes, hiding. You’ve run away from both camps. You’re so afraid you’ll get rejected that you won’t even try. Maybe it’s time you came out of the shadows.’

Just when the tension became unbearable, Nico dropped his eyes. The fissure closed in the balcony floor. The ghostly light faded.

‘I’m going to honour my promise,’ Nico said, not much louder than a whisper. ‘I’ll take you to Epirus. I’ll help you close the Doors of Death. Then that’s it. I’m leaving – forever.’

Behind them, the doors of the throne room blasted open with a gust of scorching air.

A disembodied voice said: Lord Auster will see you now.

As much as he dreaded this meeting, Jason felt relieved. At the moment, arguing with a crazy wind god seemed safer than befriending an angry son of Hades. He turned to tell Nico goodbye, but Nico had disappeared – melting back into the darkness.

Even as he said it, he did understand. Nico had talked about not belonging anywhere. At least Nico was free of attachments. He could go wherever he chose.

Frank patted Leo on the back so hard it made him wince. Even Nico shook his hand.

Jason wondered why his expression seemed familiar. Then he realized Nico di Angelo had looked the same way after facing Cupid in the ruins of Salona.

Frank grabbed a tourist brochure stuck under the napkin dispenser. He began to read it. Piper patted Leo’s arm, like she couldn’t believe he was really here. Nico stood at the edge of the group, eyeing the passing pedestrians as if they might be enemies. Coach Hedge munched on the salt and pepper shakers.

Jason scanned his friends’ faces. Most of them just looked confused. Nico was the only other one who seemed to have noticed the black lightning.

‘That can’t be …’ Nico muttered. ‘Greece is still hundreds of miles away.’

The darkness flashed again, momentarily leaching the colour from the horizon.

‘You think it’s Epirus?’ Jason’s whole skeleton tingled, the way he felt when he got hit by a thousand volts. He didn’t know why he could see the dark flashes. He wasn’t a child of the Underworld. But it gave him a very bad feeling.

Nico nodded. ‘The House of Hades is open for business.’

A few seconds later, a rumbling sound washed over them like distant artillery.

‘It’s begun,’ Hazel said.

‘What has?’ Leo asked.

When the next flash happened, Hazel’s gold eyes darkened like foil in fire. ‘Gaia’s final push,’ she said. ‘The Doors of Death are working overtime. Her forces are entering the mortal world en masse.’

‘We’ll never make it,’ Nico said. ‘By the time we arrive, there’ll be too many monsters to fight.’

Jason set his jaw. ‘We’ll defeat them. And we’ll make it there fast. We’ve got Leo back. He’ll give us the speed we need.’

‘There!’ Nico’s voice shook Frank out of his thoughts. As usual, di Angelo was perched atop the foremast. He pointed towards a glittering green river snaking through the hills a kilometre away. ‘Manoeuvre us that way. We’re close to the temple. Very close.’

‘The Necromanteion,’ Nico said. ‘The House of Hades.’

Next to Frank, Nico di Angelo raised the sceptre of Diocletian. Its orb glowed with purple light, as if in sympathy with the dark storm. Roman relic or not, the sceptre troubled Frank. If it really had the power to summon a legion of the dead … well, Frank wasn’t sure that was such a great idea.

Jason had once told him that the children of Mars had a similar ability. Supposedly, Frank could call on ghostly soldiers from the losing side of any war to serve him. He’d never had much luck with that power, probably because it freaked him out too much. He was worried he might become one of those ghosts if they lost this war – eternally doomed to pay for his failures, assuming there was anyone left to summon him.

‘So, uh, Nico …’ Frank gestured at the sceptre. ‘Have you learned to use that thing?’

‘We’ll find out.’ Nico stared at the tendrils of darkness undulating from the ruins. ‘I don’t intend to try until I have to. The Doors of Death are already working overtime bringing in Gaia’s monsters. Any more activity raising the dead and the Doors might shatter permanently, leaving a rip in the mortal world that can’t be closed.’

Coach Hedge grunted. ‘I hate rips in the world. Let’s go bust some monster heads.’

Nico led the way. At the top of the hill, they climbed over an old retaining wall and down into an excavated trench. Finally they arrived at a stone doorway leading straight into the side of the hill. The death storm seemed to originate right above their heads. Looking up at the swirling tentacles of darkness, Frank felt like he was trapped at the bottom of a flushing toilet bowl. That really didn’t calm his nerves.

Nico faced the group. ‘From here, it gets tough.’

‘Sweet,’ Leo said. ‘’Cause so far I’ve totally been pulling my punches.’

Nico glared at him. ‘We’ll see how long you keep your sense of humour. Remember, this is where pilgrims came to commune with dead ancestors. Underground, you may see things that are hard to look at, or hear voices trying to lead you astray in the tunnels. Frank, do you have the barley cakes?’

‘What?’ Frank had been thinking about his grandmother and his mom, wondering if they might appear to him. For the first time in days, the voices of Ares and Mars had started to argue again in the back of Frank’s mind, debating their favourite forms of violent death.

‘I’ve got the cakes,’ Hazel said. She pulled out the magical barley crackers they’d made from the grain Triptolemus had given them in Venice.

‘Eat up,’ Nico advised.

Frank chewed his cracker of death and tried not to gag. It reminded him of a cookie made with sawdust instead of sugar.

‘Yum,’ Piper said. Even the daughter of Aphrodite couldn’t avoid making a face.

‘Okay.’ Nico choked down the last of his barley. ‘That should protect us from the poison.’

‘Poison?’ Leo asked. ‘Did I miss the poison? ’Cause I love poison.’

‘Soon enough,’ Nico promised. ‘Just stick close together, and maybe we can avoid getting lost or going insane.’

On that happy note, Nico led them underground.

The tunnel spiralled gently downwards, the ceiling supported by white stone arches that reminded Frank of a whale’s rib cage.

As they walked, Hazel ran her hands along the masonry. ‘This wasn’t part of a temple,’ she whispered. ‘This was … the basement for a manor house, built in later Greek times.’

Frank found it eerie how Hazel could tell so much about an underground place just by being there. He’d never known her to be mistaken.

‘A manor house?’ he asked. ‘Please don’t tell me we’re in the wrong place.’

‘The House of Hades is below us,’ Nico assured him. ‘But Hazel’s right, these upper levels are much newer. When the archaeologists first excavated this site, they thought they’d found the Necromanteion. Then they realized the ruins were too recent, so they decided it was the wrong spot. They were right the first time. They just didn’t dig deep enough.’

They turned a corner and stopped. In front of them, the tunnel ended in a huge block of stone.

‘A cave-in?’ Jason asked.

‘A test,’ Nico said. ‘Hazel, would you do the honours?’

Hazel stepped forward. She placed her hand on the rock, and the entire boulder crumbled to dust. The tunnel shuddered. Cracks spread across the ceiling. For a terrifying moment, Frank imagined they’d all be crushed under tons of earth – a disappointing way to die, after all they’d been through.

Then the rumbling stopped. The dust settled.

A set of stairs curved deeper into the earth, the barrelled ceiling held up by more repeating arches, closer together and carved from polished black stone. The descending arches made Frank feel dizzy, as if he were looking into an endlessly reflecting mirror. Painted on the walls were crude pictures of black cattle marching downwards.

‘I really don’t like cows,’ Piper muttered.

‘Agreed,’ Frank said.

‘Those are the cattle of Hades,’ Nico said. ‘It’s just a symbol of –’

‘Look.’ Frank pointed.

On the first step of the stairwell, a golden chalice gleamed. Frank was pretty sure it hadn’t been there a moment before. The cup was full of dark-green liquid.

‘Hooray,’ Leo said halfheartedly. ‘I suppose that’s our poison.’

Nico picked up the chalice. ‘We’re standing at the ancient entrance of the Necromanteion. Odysseus came here, and dozens of other heroes, seeking advice from the dead.’

‘Did the dead advise them to leave immediately?’ Leo asked.

‘I would be fine with that,’ Piper admitted.

Nico drank from the chalice, then offered it to Jason. ‘You asked me about trust, and taking a risk? Well, here you go, son of Jupiter. How much do you trust me?’

Frank wasn’t sure what Nico was talking about, but Jason didn’t hesitate. He took the cup and drank.

They passed it around, each taking a sip of poison. As he waited his turn, Frank tried to keep his legs from shaking and his gut from churning. He wondered what his grandmother would say if she could see him.

Stupid, Fai Zhang! she would probably scold. If all your friends were drinking poison, would you do it too?

Frank went last. The taste of the green liquid reminded him of spoiled apple juice. He drained the chalice. It turned to smoke in his hands.

Nico nodded, apparently satisfied. ‘Congratulations. Assuming the poison doesn’t kill us, we should be able to find our way through the Necromanteion’s first level.’

‘Just the first level?’ Piper asked.

Nico turned to Hazel and gestured at the stairs. ‘After you, sister.’

‘The screech owl is one of Hades’s sacred animals,’ Nico said. ‘Its cry is a bad omen.’

‘The Doors of Death just opened again,’ Nico said.

‘It’s happening like every fifteen minutes,’ Piper noted.

‘Every twelve,’ Nico corrected, though he didn’t explain how he knew. ‘We’d better hurry. Percy and Annabeth are close. They’re in danger. I can sense it.’

‘Yes,’ Nico said. ‘If you wanted your ancestors to appear, you had to make an offering.’

‘Let’s not make an offering,’ Jason suggested.

Nico nodded. ‘I did warn you. It’ll only get worse. We should –’

For once, Nico looked uncertain. ‘This should be the room where the priests invoked the most powerful spirits. One of these passages leads deeper into the temple, to the third level and the altar of Hades himself. But which –?’

‘That one.’ Frank pointed. In a doorway at the opposite end of the room, a ghostly Roman legionnaire beckoned to them. His face was misty and indistinct, but Frank got the feeling the ghost was looking directly at him.

Hazel frowned. ‘Why that one?’

‘You don’t see the ghost?’ Frank asked.

‘Ghost?’ Nico asked.

Okay … if Frank was seeing a ghost that the Underworld kids couldn’t see, something was definitely wrong. He felt like the floor was vibrating underneath him. Then he realized it was vibrating.

‘Hazel, don’t stop!’ Nico ordered. He pulled the sceptre of Diocletian from his belt. Piper and Jason drew their swords as the monsters spilled into the cavern.

Jason, Piper and Nico stood on the near side of the chasm, which was good, but they were surrounded by a ring of Cyclopes and hellhounds. More monsters kept pouring in from the side corridors, while gryphons wheeled overhead, undeterred by the crumbling floor.

The three demigods would never make it to the tunnel. Even if Jason tried to fly them, they’d be shot out of the air.

Frank remembered the voice of his ancestor: At the break, you must take charge.

‘We have to help them,’ Hazel said.

Frank’s mind raced, doing battle calculations. He saw exactly what would happen – where and when his friends would be overwhelmed, how all six of them would die here in this cavern … unless Frank changed the equation.

‘Nico!’ he yelled. ‘The sceptre.’

Nico raised Diocletian’s sceptre, and the cavern air shimmered purple. Ghosts climbed from the fissure and seeped from the walls – an entire Roman legion in full battle gear. They began taking on physical form, like walking corpses, but they seemed confused. Jason yelled in Latin, ordering them to form ranks and attack. The undead just shuffled among the monsters, causing momentary confusion, but that wouldn’t last.

About five metres ahead, Nico was swinging his black sword with one hand, holding the sceptre of Diocletian aloft with the other. He kept shouting orders at the legionnaires, but they paid him no attention.

Of course not, Frank thought. He’s Greek.

Jason and Piper stood at Nico’s back. Jason summoned gusts of wind to blast aside javelins and arrows. He deflected a vial of Greek fire right up the throat of a gryphon, which burst into flames and spiralled into the pit. Piper put her new sword to good use, while spraying food from the cornucopia in her other hand – using hams, chickens, apples and oranges as interceptor missiles. The air above the chasm turned into a fireworks show of flaming projectiles, exploding rocks and fresh produce.

‘Stupid ghosts!’ Nico shouted.

‘They won’t listen!’ Jason agreed.

Frank wished he had an answer. A gryphon soared overhead, almost decapitating him with its talons. Nico smacked it with the sceptre of Diocletian, and the monster veered into a wall.

Nico swung his black sword at another gryphon. ‘Well, then, promote him!’

Frank’s mind was sluggish. He didn’t understand what Nico was saying. Promote him? How?

Frank heard a laugh behind him. He glanced back and couldn’t believe what he saw. Nico di Angelo was actually smiling.

‘That’s more like it,’ Nico said. ‘Let’s turn this tide!’

‘Cuneum formate!’ Frank yelled. ‘Advance with pila!’

‘Nico,’ Frank said, ‘keep trying to raise the dead. We need more numbers.’

‘On it.’ Nico lifted the sceptre of Diocletian, which glowed even darker purple. More ghostly Romans seeped from the walls to join the fight.

Nico kept summoning more legionnaires to join the fight. Over the history of the empire, thousands of Romans had served and died in Greece. Now they were back, answering the call of Diocletian’s sceptre.

His forces swept the enemy away, breaking their every attempt to regroup. Jason and Piper fought at his side, yelling defiantly. Nico waded through the last group of Earthborn, slashing them into mounds of wet clay with his black Stygian sword.

Before Frank knew it, the battle was over. Piper chopped through the last empousa, who vaporized with an anguished wail.

‘Frank,’ Jason said, ‘you’re on fire.’

He looked down. A few drops of oil must have splattered on his trousers, because they were starting to smoulder. Frank batted at them until they stopped smoking, but he wasn’t particularly worried. Thanks to Leo, he no longer had to fear fire.

Nico cleared his throat. ‘Uh … you also have an arrow sticking through your arm.’

‘I know.’ Frank snapped off the point of the arrow and pulled out the shaft by the tail. He felt only a warm tugging sensation. ‘I’ll be fine.’

Piper made him eat a piece of ambrosia. As she bandaged his wound, she said, ‘Frank, you were amazing. Completely terrifying, but amazing.’

Frank had trouble processing her words. Terrifying couldn’t apply to him. He was just Frank. His adrenalin drained away. He looked around him, wondering where all the enemies had gone. The only monsters left were his own undead Romans, standing in a stupor with their weapons lowered.

Nico held up his sceptre, its orb dark and dormant. ‘The dead won’t stay much longer, now that the battle is over.’

‘We can’t go that way,’ Nico said. ‘Maybe …’

Suddenly he staggered. He would have fallen if Jason hadn’t caught him.

‘Nico!’ Piper said. ‘What is it?’

‘The Doors,’ Nico said. ‘Something’s happening. Percy and Annabeth … we need to go now.’

‘But how?’ Jason said. ‘That tunnel is gone.’

Frank clenched his jaw. He hadn’t come this far to stand around helplessly while his friends were in trouble. ‘It won’t be fun,’ he said, ‘but there’s another way.’

A sword appeared in the giant’s hand – a Stygian iron blade much like Nico’s, except five times the size. _I do not understand why Gaia would find any of these demigods worthy of sacrifice. I will crush them like empty nutshell._

‘That was for my brother, Nico,’ Hazel gasped. ‘And for destroying my father’s altar.’

_You have forfeited your right to a quick death, the giant snarled. I will suffocate you in darkness, slowly, painfully. Hecate cannot help you. NO ONE can help you!_

The goddess raised her torches. ‘I would not be so certain, Clytius. Hazel’s friends simply needed a little time to reach her – time you have given them with your boasting and bragging.’

Clytius snorted. _What friends? These weaklings? They are no challenge._

In front of Hazel, the air rippled. The Mist thickened, creating a doorway, and four people stepped through.

Hazel wept with relief. Frank’s arm was bleeding and bandaged, but he was alive. Next to him stood Nico, Piper and Jason – all with their swords drawn.

Each time the giant’s smoky veil started creeping around one of them, Nico was there, slashing through it, drinking in the darkness with his Stygian blade.

She was so giddy with relief it took her a moment to notice Nico, standing by himself, his expression full of pain and conflict.

‘Hey,’ she called to him, beckoning with her good arm.

He hesitated, then came over and kissed her forehead. ‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ he said. ‘The ghosts were right. Only one of us made it to the Doors of Death. You … you would have made Dad proud.’

She smiled, cupping her hand gently to his face. ‘We couldn’t have defeated Clytius without you.’

She brushed her thumb under Nico’s eye and wondered if he had been crying. She wanted so badly to understand what was going on with him – what had happened to him over the last few weeks. After all they’d just been through, Hazel was more grateful than ever to have a brother.

‘We’ll have to shadow-travel,’ Hazel said.

Nico winced. ‘Hazel, I can barely manage that with only myself. With seven more people –’

‘I’ll help you.’ She tried to sound confident. She’d never shadow-travelled before, had no idea if she could, but after working with the Mist, altering the Labyrinth – she had to believe it was possible.

An entire section of tiles peeled loose from the ceiling.

‘Everyone, grab hands!’ Nico yelled.

They made a hasty circle. Hazel envisioned the Greek countryside above them. The cavern collapsed, and she felt herself dissolving into shadow.

Hazel was holding hands with Frank on her left, Nico on her right. They were all alive and mostly whole. The sunlight in the trees was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She wanted to live in that moment – free of monsters and gods and evil spirits.

Then her friends began to stir.

Nico realized that he was holding Percy’s hand and quickly let go.

Leo staggered backwards. ‘You know … I think I’ll sit down.’

He collapsed. The others joined him. The Argo II still floated over the river a few hundred yards away. Hazel knew that they should signal Coach Hedge and tell him they were alive. Had they been in the temple all night? Or several nights? But at the moment the group was too tired to do anything except sit and relax and marvel at the fact that they were okay.

They began to exchange stories.

Frank explained what had happened with the ghostly legion and the army of monsters – how Nico had used the sceptre of Diocletian and how bravely Jason and Piper had fought.

Hazel happened to glance at Nico and saw pain in his eyes. She wasn’t sure, but maybe he was thinking how lucky Percy and Annabeth were to have each other. Nico had gone through Tartarus _alone_.

‘It makes sense,’ Nico said.

Percy flinched. It almost sounded like Nico had read his mind and was agreeing that Athena should step on him.

The son of Hades sat at the other end of the circle, eating nothing but half a pomegranate, the fruit of the Underworld. Percy wondered if that was Nico’s idea of a joke.

‘The statue is a powerful symbol,’ Nico said. ‘A Roman returning it to the Greeks … that could heal the historic rift, maybe even heal the gods of their split personalities.’

‘I’m not,’ Nico said.

Everybody stopped eating. Percy stared across the circle at Nico, trying to decide if he was joking. Hazel set down her fork. ‘Nico –’

‘I’ll go with Reyna,’ he said. ‘I can transport the statue with shadow-travel.’

‘Uh …’ Percy raised his hand. ‘I mean, I know you just got all eight of us to the surface, and that was awesome. But a year ago you said transporting just yourself was dangerous and unpredictable. A couple of times you ended up in China. Transporting a forty-foot statue and two people halfway across the world –’

‘I’ve changed since I came back from Tartarus.’ Nico’s eyes glittered with anger – more intensely than Percy understood. He wondered if he’d done something to offend the guy.

‘Nico,’ Jason intervened, ‘we’re not questioning your power. We just want to make sure you don’t kill yourself trying.’

‘I can do it,’ he insisted. ‘I’ll make short jumps – a few hundred miles each time. It’s true, after each jump I won’t be in any shape to fend off monsters. I’ll need Reyna to defend me and the statue.’

Reyna had an excellent poker face. She studied the group, scanning their faces, but betraying none of her own thoughts. ‘Any objections?’

Nico rose. ‘I should go, too, and rest before the first passage. We’ll meet at the statue at sunset.’

Once he was gone, Hazel frowned. ‘He’s acting strangely. I’m not sure he’s thinking this through.’

‘He’ll be okay,’ Jason said.

‘I hope you’re right.’ She passed her hand over the ground. Diamonds broke the surface – a glittering milky way of stones. ‘We’re at another crossroads. The Athena Parthenos goes west. The Argo II goes east. I hope we chose correctly.’

At sunset, Percy found Nico tying ropes around the pedestal of the Athena Parthenos.

‘Thank you,’ Percy said.

Nico frowned. ‘What for?’

‘You promised to lead the others to the House of Hades,’ Percy said. ‘You did it.’

Nico tied the ends of the ropes together, making a halter. ‘You got me out of that bronze jar in Rome. Saved my life yet again. It was the least I could do.’

His voice was steely, guarded. Percy wished he could figure out what made this guy tick, but he’d never been able to. Nico was no longer the geeky kid from Westover Hall with the Mythomagic cards. Nor was he the angry loner who’d followed the ghost of Minos through the Labyrinth. But who was he?

‘Also,’ Percy said, ‘you visited Bob …’

He told Nico about their trip through Tartarus. He figured if anyone could understand, Nico could.

‘You convinced Bob that I could be trusted, even though I never visited him. I never gave him a second thought. You probably saved our lives by being nice to him.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Nico said, ‘not giving people a second thought … that can be dangerous.’

‘Dude, I’m trying to say thank you.’

Nico laughed without humour. ‘I’m trying to say you don’t need to. Now I need to finish this, if you could give me some space?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, okay.’ Percy stepped back while Nico took up the slack on his ropes. He slipped them over his shoulders as if the Athena Parthenos were a giant backpack.

Percy couldn’t help feeling a little hurt, being told to take a hike. Then again, Nico had been through a lot. The guy had survived in Tartarus on his own. Percy understood firsthand just how much strength that must have taken.

Annabeth walked up the hill to join them. She took Percy’s hand, which made him feel better.

‘Good luck,’ she told Nico.

‘Yeah.’ He didn’t meet her eyes. ‘You, too.’

A minute later, Reyna and Coach Hedge arrived in full armour with packs over their shoulders. Reyna looked grim and ready for combat. Coach Hedge grinned like he was expecting a surprise party.

Reyna gave Annabeth a hug. ‘We will succeed,’ she promised.

‘I know you will,’ Annabeth said.

Coach Hedge shouldered his baseball bat. ‘Yeah, don’t worry. I’m going to get to camp and see my baby! Uh, I mean I’m going to get this baby to camp!’ He patted the leg of the Athena Parthenos.

‘All right,’ said Nico. ‘Grab the ropes, please. Here we go.’

Reyna and Hedge took hold. The air darkened. The Athena Parthenos collapsed into its own shadow and disappeared, along with its three escorts.

He wondered where Nico, Reyna and Hedge were now, and how long it would take them to make it back – assuming they survived. He imagined the Romans drawing up battle lines right now, encircling Camp Half-Blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nico; *exists*  
> Literally any monster within 50 yards; *tries to injure him*  
> Literally any gods; *turns him into a plant or tries to injure him*
> 
> Just a forewarning, Blood of Olympus will probably be two parts because Nico have POV chapters.


	8. Blood of Olympus part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Will Solace can glow in the dark. It doesn't happen in this book, but I feel like this is very important information.

Nico di Angelo had warned them: the House of Hades would stir their worst memories, make them see things and hear things from the past. Their ghosts would become restless.

He flashed back to the last time he’d plunged into a mob of evil spirits, in the House of Hades. If it hadn’t been for Frank Zhang and Nico di Angelo …

Gods … Nico.

Over the past few days, every time Jason sacrificed a portion of a meal to Jupiter, he prayed to his dad to help Nico. That kid had gone through so much, and yet he had volunteered for the most difficult job: transporting the Athena Parthenos statue to Camp Half-Blood. If he didn’t succeed, the Roman and Greek demigods would slaughter each other. Then, no matter what happened in Greece, the Argo II would have no home to return to.

‘Don’t feign ignorance, my dearest. Gaia knows about your friend Reyna and Nico the son of Hades and the satyr Hedge. To kill them, the Earth Mother has sent her most dangerous son – the hunter who never rests. But you don’t have to die.’

The ghouls and ghosts closed in – two hundred of them facing Jason in anticipation, as if he might lead them in the national anthem.

The hunter who never rests.

Jason didn’t know who that was, but he had to warn Reyna and Nico.

‘Reyna, Nico and Coach Hedge,’ he said. ‘They’re in danger. We need to warn them.’

‘We’ll take care of it when we get back to the ship,’ Piper promised. ‘Your job right now is to relax.’ Her tone was light and confident, but her eyes brimmed with tears. ‘Besides, those three are a tough group. They’ll be fine.’

Jason hoped she was right. Reyna had risked so much to help them. Coach Hedge was annoying sometimes, but he’d been a loyal protector for the entire crew. And Nico … Jason felt especially worried about him.

Piper brushed her thumb against the scar on his lip. ‘Once the war is over … everything will work out for Nico. You’ve done what you could, being a friend to him.’

Jason wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t told Piper anything about his conversations with Nico. He’d kept di Angelo’s secret.

‘Nico!’ she yelled.

‘Pan’s pipes!’ cursed Gleeson Hedge.

‘Whaaaaa!’ Nico flailed, almost slipping out of Reyna’s grip. She held tight and grabbed Coach Hedge by the shirt collar as he started to tumble away. If they got separated now, they were dead.

They plummeted towards the volcano as their largest piece of luggage – the forty-foot-tall Athena Parthenos – trailed after them, leashed to a harness on Nico’s back like a very ineffective parachute.

‘That’s Vesuvius below us!’ Reyna shouted over the wind. ‘Nico, teleport us out of here!’

His eyes were wild and unfocused. His dark feathery hair whipped around his face like a raven shot out of the sky. ‘I – I can’t! No strength!’

Coach Hedge bleated. ‘News flash, kid! Goats can’t fly! Zap us out of here or we’re gonna get flattened into an Athena Parthenos omelette!’

Reyna tried to think. She could accept death if she had to, but if the Athena Parthenos was destroyed their quest would fail. Reyna could not accept that.

‘Nico, shadow-travel,’ she ordered. ‘I’ll lend you my strength.’

He stared at her blankly. ‘How –’

‘Do it!’

She tightened her grip on his hand. The torch-and-sword symbol of Bellona on her forearm grew painfully hot, as if it were being seared into her skin for the first time.

Nico gasped. Colour returned to his face. Just before they hit the volcano’s steam plume, they slipped into shadows.

The air turned frigid. The sound of the wind was replaced by a cacophony of voices whispering in a thousand languages. Reyna’s insides felt like a giant piragua – cold syrup trickled over crushed ice – her favourite treat from her childhood in Viejo San Juan. She wondered why that memory would surface now, when she was on the verge of death. Then her vision cleared. Her feet rested on solid ground.

The eastern sky had begun to lighten. For a moment Reyna thought she was back in New Rome. Doric columns lined an atrium the size of a baseball diamond. In front of her, a bronze faun stood in the middle of a sunken fountain decorated with mosaic tile. Crepe myrtles and rosebushes bloomed in a nearby garden. Palm trees and pines stretched  
skyward. Cobblestone paths led from the courtyard in several directions – straight, level roads of good Roman construction, edging low stone houses with colonnaded porches.

Reyna turned. Behind her, the Athena Parthenos stood intact and upright, dominating the courtyard like a ridiculously oversized lawn ornament. The little bronze faun in the fountain had both his arms raised, facing Athena, so he seemed to be cowering in fear of the new arrival.

On the horizon, Mount Vesuvius loomed – a dark, humpbacked shape now several miles away. Thick pillars of steam curled from the crest.

‘We’re in Pompeii,’ Reyna realized.

‘Oh, that’s not good,’ Nico said, and he immediately collapsed.

‘Whoa!’ Coach Hedge caught him before he hit the ground. The satyr propped him against Athena’s feet and loosened the harness that attached Nico to the statue.

Reyna’s own knees buckled. She’d expected some backlash; it happened every time she shared her strength. But she hadn’t anticipated so much raw anguish from Nico di Angelo. She sat down heavily, just managing to stay conscious.

Gods of Rome. If this was only a portion of Nico’s pain … how could he bear it?

She tried to steady her breathing while Coach Hedge rummaged through his camping supplies. Around Nico’s boots, the stones cracked. Dark seams radiated outwards like a shotgun blast of ink, as if Nico’s body were trying to expel all the shadows he’d travelled through. Yesterday had been worse: an entire meadow withering, skeletons rising from the earth. Reyna wasn’t anxious for that to happen again.

‘Drink something.’ She offered him a canteen of unicorn draught – powdered horn mixed with sanctified water from the Little Tiber. They’d found it worked on Nico better than nectar, helping to cleanse the fatigue and darkness from his system with less danger of spontaneous combustion.

Nico gulped it down. He still looked terrible. His skin had a bluish tint. His cheeks were sunken. Hanging at his side, the sceptre of Diocletian glowed angry purple, like a radioactive bruise.

He studied Reyna. ‘How did you do that … that surge of energy?’

Reyna turned her forearm. The tattoo still burned like hot wax: the symbol of Bellona, SPQR, with four lines for her years of service. ‘I don’t like to talk about it,’ she said, ‘but it’s a power from my mother. I can impart strength to others.’

Coach Hedge looked up from his rucksack. ‘Seriously? Why haven’t you hooked me up, Roman girl? I want super-muscles!’

Reyna frowned. ‘It doesn’t work like that, Coach. I can only do it in life-and-death situations, and it’s more useful in large groups. When I command troops, I can share whatever attributes I have – strength, courage, endurance – multiplied by the size of my forces.’

Nico arched an eyebrow. ‘Useful for a Roman praetor.’

Reyna didn’t answer. She preferred not to speak of her power for exactly this reason. She didn’t want the demigods under her command to think she was controlling them, or that she’d become a leader because she had some special magic. She could only share the qualities she already possessed, and she couldn’t help anyone who wasn’t worthy of being a hero.

Coach Hedge grunted. ‘Too bad. Super-muscles would be nice.’ He went back to sorting through his pack, which seemed to hold a bottomless supply of cooking utensils, survivalist gear and random sports equipment.

Nico took another swig of unicorn draught. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but Reyna could tell he was fighting to stay awake.

‘You stumbled just now,’ he noted. ‘When you use your power … do you get some sort of, um, feedback from me?’

‘It’s not mind-reading,’ she said. ‘Not even an empathy link. Just … a temporary wave of exhaustion. Primal emotions. Your pain washes over me. I take on some of your burden.’

Nico’s expression became guarded.

He twisted the silver skull ring on his finger, the same way Reyna did with her silver ring when she was thinking. Sharing a habit with the son of Hades made her uneasy.

She’d felt more pain from Nico in their brief connection than she had from her entire legion during the battle against the giant Polybotes. It had drained her worse than the last time she’d used her power, to sustain her pegasus Scipio during their journey across the Atlantic. She tried to push away that memory. Her brave winged friend dying from poison, his muzzle in her lap, looking at her trustingly as she raised her dagger to end his misery … Gods, no. She couldn’t dwell on that or it would break her.But the pain she’d felt from Nico was sharper.

‘You should rest,’ she told him. ‘After two jumps in a row, even with a little help … you’re lucky to be alive. We’ll need you to be ready again by nightfall.’

She felt bad asking him to do something so impossible. Unfortunately, she’d had a lot of practice pushing demigods beyond their limits.

Nico clenched his jaw and nodded. ‘We’re stuck here now.’ He scanned the ruins. ‘But Pompeii is the last place I would’ve chosen to land. This place is full of lemures.’

‘Lemurs?’ Coach Hedge seemed to be making some sort of snare out of kite string, a tennis racket and a hunting knife. ‘You mean those cute fuzzy critters –’

‘No.’ Nico sounded annoyed, like he got that question a lot. ‘Lemures. Unfriendly ghosts. All Roman cities have them, but in Pompeii –’

‘The whole city was wiped out,’ Reyna remembered. ‘In 79 C.E., Vesuvius erupted and covered the town in ash.’

Nico nodded. ‘A tragedy like that creates a lot of angry spirits.’

Coach Hedge eyed the distant volcano. ‘It’s steaming. Is that a bad sign?’

‘I – I’m not sure.’ Nico picked at a hole in the knee of his black jeans. ‘Mountain gods, the ourae, can sense children of Hades. It’s possible that’s why we were pulled off course. The spirit of Vesuvius might have been intentionally trying to kill us. But I doubt the mountain can hurt us this far away. Working up to a full eruption would take too long. The immediate threat is all around us.’

The back of Reyna’s neck tingled.

She’d grown used to Lares, the friendly spirits at Camp Jupiter, but even they made her uneasy. They didn’t have a good understanding of personal space. Sometimes they’d walk right through her, leaving her with vertigo. Being in Pompeii gave Reyna the same feeling, as if the whole city was onebig ghost that had swallowed her whole.

She couldn’t tell her friends how much she feared ghosts, or why she feared them. The wholereason she and her sister had run away from San Juan all those years ago … that secret had to stay buried.

‘Can you keep them at bay?’ she asked.

Nico turned up his palms. ‘I’ve sent out that message: Stay away. But once I’m asleep it won’t do us much good.’

Coach Hedge patted his tennis-racket-knife contraption. ‘Don’t worry, kid. I’m going to line the perimeter with alarms and snares. Plus, I’ll be watching over you the whole time with my baseball bat.’

That didn’t seem to reassure Nico, but his eyes were already half-closed. ‘Okay. But … go easy. We don’t want another Albania.’

‘No,’ Reyna agreed.

Their first shadow-travel experience together two days ago had been a total fiasco, possibly the most humiliating episode in Reyna’s long career. Perhaps someday, if they survived, they would look back on it and laugh, but not now. The three of them had agreed never to speak of it. What happenedin Albania would stay in Albania.

Coach Hedge looked hurt. ‘Fine, whatever. Just rest, kid. We got you covered.’

‘All right,’ Nico relented. ‘Maybe a little …’ He managed to take off his aviator jacket and wad it into a pillow before he keeled over and began to snore.

Reyna marvelled at how peaceful he looked. The worry lines vanished. His face became strangely angelic … like his surname, di Angelo. She could almost believe he was a regular fourteen-year-old boy, not a son of Hades who had been pulled out of time from the 1940s and forced to endure more tragedy and danger than most demigods would in a lifetime.

When Nico had arrived at Camp Jupiter, Reyna didn’t trust him. She’d sensed there was more to his story than being an ambassador from his father, Pluto. Now, of course, she knew the truth. He wasa Greek demigod – the first person in living memory, perhaps the first ever, to go back and forth between the Roman and Greek camps without telling either group that the other existed. Strangely, that made Reyna trust Nico more.

Sure, he wasn’t Roman. He’d never hunted with Lupa or endured the brutal legion training. But Nico had proven himself in other ways. He’d kept the camps’ secrets for the best of reasons, because he feared a war. He had plunged into Tartarus alone, voluntarily, to find the Doors of Death. He’d been captured and imprisoned by giants. He had led the crew of the Argo II into the House of Hades… and now he had accepted yet another terrible quest: risking himself to haul the Athena Parthenos  
back to Camp Half-Blood.

The pace of the journey was maddeningly slow. They could only shadow-travel a few hundred miles each night, resting during the day to let Nico recover, but even that required more stamina from Nico than Reyna would have thought possible.

He carried so much sadness and loneliness, so much heartache. Yet he put his mission first. He persevered. Reyna respected that. She understood that.

She’d never been a touchy-feely person, but she had the strangest desire to drape her cloak over Nico’s shoulders and tuck him in. She mentally chided herself. He was a comrade, not her little brother. He wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.

She wanted to talk about her nightmares, but she decided to wait until Nico woke up. She wasn’t sure she’d have the courage to describe them twice.

Nico kept snoring. Reyna had discovered that once he fell asleep it took a lot to wake him up. The coach could do a goat-hoof tap dance around Nico’s head and the son of Hades wouldn’t even budge.

‘Yeah, well …’ The satyr bit off another piece of waffle, including the stick he’d toasted it on. ‘I just wish we could move faster.’ He chin-pointed to Nico. ‘I don’t see how this kid is going to last one more jump. How many more will it take us to get home?’

Finally, just after sunset, Nico woke. He wolfed down an avocado and cheese sandwich, the first time he’d shown a decent appetite since leaving the House of Hades.

Reyna hated to ruin his dinner, but they didn’t have much time. As the daylight faded, the ghosts started moving closer and in greater numbers.

She told him about her dreams: the earth swallowing Camp Jupiter, Octavian closing in on Camp Half-Blood and the hunter with the glowing eyes who had shot Reyna in the gut.

Nico stared at his empty plate. ‘This hunter … a giant, maybe?’

Coach Hedge grunted. ‘I’d rather not find out. I say we keep moving.’

Nico’s mouth twitched. ‘You are suggesting we avoid a fight?’

‘Listen, cupcake, I like a smackdown as much as the next guy, but we’ve got enough monsters to worry about without some bounty-hunter giant tracking us across the world. I don’t like the sound of those huge arrows.’

‘For once,’ Reyna said, ‘I agree with Hedge.’

Nico unfolded his aviator jacket. He put his finger through an arrow hole in the sleeve.

‘I could ask for advice.’ Nico sounded reluctant. ‘Thalia Grace …’

‘Jason’s sister,’ Reyna said.

She’d never met Thalia. In fact, she’d only recently learned Jason had a sister. According to Jason, she was a Greek demigod, a daughter of Zeus, who led a group of Diana’s … no, Artemis’s followers. The whole idea made Reyna’s head spin.

Nico nodded. ‘The Hunters of Artemis are … well, hunters. If anybody knew about this giant hunter guy, Thalia would. I could try sending her an Iris-message.’

‘You don’t sound very excited about the idea,’ Reyna noticed. ‘Are you two … on bad terms?’

‘We’re fine.’

A few feet away, Aurum snarled quietly, which meant Nico was lying. Reyna decided not to press.

‘I should also try to contact my sister, Hylla,’ she said. ‘Camp Jupiter is lightly defended. If Gaia attacks there, perhaps the Amazons could help.’

Coach Hedge scowled. ‘No offence, but, uh … what’s an army of Amazons going to do against a wave of dirt?’

Reyna fought down a sense of dread. She suspected Hedge was right. Against what she’d seen in her dreams, the only defence would be to prevent the giants from waking Gaia. For that, she had to put her trust in the crew of the Argo II.

The daylight was almost gone. Around the courtyard, ghosts were forming a mob – hundreds of glowing Romans carrying spectral clubs or stones.

‘We can talk more after the next jump,’ Reyna decided. ‘Right now, we need to get out of here.’

‘Yeah.’ Nico stood. ‘I think we can reach Spain this time if we’re lucky. Just let me –’

The mob of ghosts vanished, like a mass of birthday candles blown out in a single breath. Reyna’s hand went to her dagger. ‘Where did they go?’

Nico’s eyes flitted across the ruins. His expression was not reassuring. ‘I – I’m not sure, but I don’t think it’s a good sign. Keep a lookout. I’ll get harnessed up. Should only take a few seconds.’

‘Nico?’ Reyna called.

‘I can’t control them,’ he said, frantically untangling his harness. ‘Something about the rock shells, I guess. I need a couple of seconds to concentrate on making the shadow-jump. Otherwise I might teleport us into another volcano.’

Reyna cursed under her breath. There was no way she could fight off so many by herself while Nico prepared their escape, especially with Coach Hedge out of commission.

‘Use the sceptre,’ she said. ‘Get me some zombies.’

‘It will not help,’ Coach Hedge intoned. ‘Stand aside, Praetor. Let the ghosts of Pompeii destroy this Greek statue. A true Roman would not resist.’

The earthen ghosts shuffled forward. Through their mouth holes, they made hollow whistling noises¸ like someone blowing across empty soda bottles. One stepped on the coach’s dagger-tennisracket trap and smashed it to pieces.

From his belt, Nico pulled the sceptre of Diocletian. ‘Reyna, if I summon more dead Romans … who’s to say they won’t join this mob?’

‘I say. I am a praetor. Get me some legionnaires, and I’ll control them.’

‘You shall perish,’ said the coach. ‘You shall never –’

Reyna smacked him on the head with the pommel of her knife. The satyr crumpled.

‘Sorry, Coach,’ she muttered. ‘That was getting tiresome. Nico – zombies! Then concentrate on getting us out of here.’

Nico raised his sceptre and the ground trembled.

The earthen ghosts chose that moment to charge. Aurum leaped at the nearest one and literally bit the creature’s head off with his metal fangs. The rock shell toppled backwards and shattered.

Argentum was not so lucky. He sprang at another ghost, which swung its heavy arm and bashed the greyhound in his face. Argentum went flying. He staggered to his feet. His head was twisted forty-five degrees to the right. One of his ruby eyes was missing.  
Anger hammered in Reyna’s chest like a hot spike. She’d already lost her pegasus. She was not

going to lose her dogs, too. She slashed her knife through the ghost’s chest, then drew her gladius. Strictly speaking, fighting with two blades wasn’t very Roman, but Reyna had spent time with pirates. She’d picked up more than a few tricks.

The earthen shells crumbled easily, but they hit like sledgehammers. Reyna didn’t understand how, but she knew she couldn’t afford to take even one blow. Unlike Argentum, she wouldn’t survive getting her head knocked sideways.

‘Nico!’ She ducked between two earthen ghosts, allowing them to smash each other’s heads in. ‘Any time now!’

The ground split open down the centre of the courtyard. Dozens of skeletal soldiers clawed their way to the surface. Their shields looked like giant corroded pennies. Their blades were more rust than metal. But Reyna had never been so relieved to see reinforcements.

‘Legion!’ she shouted. ‘Ad aciem!’

The zombies responded, pushing through the earthen ghosts to form a battle line. Some fell, crushed by stone fists. Others managed to close ranks and raise their shields. Behind her, Nico cursed.

Reyna risked a backward glance. The sceptre of Diocletian was smoking in Nico’s hands.

‘It’s fighting me!’ he yelled. ‘I don’t think it likes summoning Romans to fight other Romans!’

Reyna knew that Ancient Romans had spent at least half their time fighting each other, but she decided not to bring that up. ‘Just secure Coach Hedge. Get ready to shadow-travel! I’ll buy you some–’

Nico yelped. The sceptre of Diocletian exploded into pieces. Nico didn’t look hurt, but he stared at Reyna in shock. ‘I – I don’t know what happened. You’ve got a few minutes, tops, before your zombies disappear.’

‘Legion!’ Reyna shouted. ‘Orbem formate! Gladium signe!’

The zombies circled the Athena Parthenos, their swords ready for close-quarters fighting. Argentum dragged the unconscious Coach Hedge over to Nico, who was furiously strapping himself into the harness. Aurum stood guard, lunging at any earth ghosts who broke through the line.

‘Reyna, now!’ Nico yelled. ‘We’re leaving!’

She glanced back. Nico had harnessed himself to the Athena Parthenos. He held the unconscious Gleeson Hedge in his arms like a damsel in distress. Aurum and Argentum had disappeared – perhaps too badly damaged to continue fighting.

Reyna stumbled.

A rock fist gave her a glancing blow to the ribcage, and her side erupted in pain. Her head swam. She tried to breathe, but it was like inhaling knives.

‘Reyna!’ Nico shouted again.

The Athena Parthenos flickered, about to disappear.

An earthen ghost swung at Reyna’s head. She managed to dodge, but the pain in her ribs almost made her black out.

Give up, said the voices in her head. The legacy of Rome is dead and buried, just like Pompeii.

‘No,’ she murmured to herself. ‘Not while I’m still alive.’

Nico stretched out his hand as he slipped into the shadows. With the last of her strength, Reyna leaped towards him.

The last thing Nico heard was Coach Hedge grumbling, ‘Well, this isn’t good.’

He wondered what he’d done wrong this time. Maybe he’d teleported them into a den of Cyclopes, or a thousand feet above another volcano. There was nothing he could do about it. His vision was gone. His other senses were shutting down. His knees buckled and he passed out.

He tried to make the most of his unconsciousness.

Dreams and death were old friends of his. He knew how to navigate their dark borderland. He sent out his thoughts, searching for Thalia Grace.

He rushed past the usual fragments of painful memories – his mother smiling down at him, her face illuminated by the sunlight rippling off the Venetian Grand Canal; his sister Bianca laughing as she pulled him across the Mall in Washington, D.C., her green floppy hat shading her eyes and the splash of freckles across her nose. He saw Percy Jackson on a snowy cliff outside Westover Hall, shielding Nico and Bianca from the manticore as Nico clutched a Mythomagic figurine and whispered, I’m scared. He saw Minos, his old ghostly mentor, leading him through the Labyrinth. Minos’s smile was cold and cruel. Don’t worry, son of Hades. You will have your revenge.

Nico couldn’t stop the memories. They cluttered his dreams like the ghosts of Asphodel – an aimless, sorrowful mob pleading for attention. Save me, they seemed to whisper. Remember me. Helpme. Comfort me.

He didn’t dare stop to dwell on them. They would only crush him with wants and regrets. The best he could do was to stay focused and push through.

I am the son of Hades, he thought. I go where I wish. The darkness is my birthright.

He forged ahead through a grey-and-black terrain, looking for the dreams of Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus. Instead, the ground dissolved at his feet and he fell into a familiar backwater – the Hypnos cabin at Camp Half-Blood.

Buried under piles of feather comforters, snoring demigods nestled in their bunks. Above the mantel, a dark tree branch dripped milky water from the River Lethe into a bowl. A cheerful fire crackled in the fireplace. In front of it, in a leather armchair, dozed the head counsellor for Cabin Fifteen – a pot-bellied guy with unruly blond hair and a gentle bovine face.

‘Clovis,’ Nico growled, ‘for the gods’ sake, stop dreaming so powerfully!’

Clovis’s eyes fluttered open. He turned and stared at Nico, though Nico knew this was simply part of Clovis’s own dreamscape. The actual Clovis would still be snoring in his armchair back at camp.

‘Oh, hi …’ Clovis yawned wide enough to swallow a minor god. ‘Sorry. Did I pull you off course again?’

Nico gritted his teeth. There was no point getting upset. The Hypnos cabin was like Grand Central Station for dream activity. You couldn’t travel anywhere without going through it once in a while.

‘As long as I’m here,’ Nico said, ‘pass along a message. Tell Chiron I’m on my way with a couple of friends. We’re bringing the Athena Parthenos.’

Clovis rubbed his eyes. ‘So it’s true? How are you bringing it? Did you rent a van or something?’

Nico explained as concisely as possible. Messages sent through dreams tended to get fuzzy around the edges, especially when you were dealing with Clovis. The simpler, the better.

‘We’re being followed by a hunter,’ Nico said. ‘One of Gaia’s giants, I think. Can you get that message to Thalia Grace? You’re better at finding people in dreams than I am. I need her advice.’

‘I’ll try.’ Clovis fumbled for a cup of hot chocolate on the side table. ‘Uh, before you go, do you have a second?’

‘Clovis, this is a dream,’ Nico reminded him. ‘Time is fluid.’

Even as he said it, Nico worried about what was happening in the real world. His physical self might be plummeting to his death, or surrounded by monsters. Still, he couldn’t force himself to wake up – not after the amount of energy he’d expended on shadow-travel.

Clovis nodded. ‘Right … I was thinking you should probably see what happened today at the council of war. I slept through some of it, but –’

‘Show me,’ Nico said.

The scene changed. Nico found himself in the rec room of the Big House, all the senior camp leaders gathered around the ping-pong table.

At one end sat Chiron the centaur, his equine posterior collapsed into his magic wheelchair so he looked like a regular human. His curly brown hair and beard had more grey streaks than a few months ago. Deep lines etched his face.

‘– things we can’t control,’ he was saying. ‘Now let’s review our defences. Where do we stand?’

Clarisse from the Ares cabin sat forward. She was the only one in full armour, which was typical. Clarisse probably slept in her combat gear. As she spoke, she gestured with her dagger, which made the other counsellors lean away from her.

‘Our defensive line is mostly solid,’ she said. ‘The campers are as ready to fight as they’ll ever be. We control the beach. Our triremes are unchallenged on Long Island Sound, but those stupid giant eagles dominate our airspace. Inland, in all three directions, the barbarians have us completely cut off.’

‘They’re Romans,’ said Rachel Dare, doodling with a marker on the knee of her jeans. ‘Not barbarians.’

Clarisse pointed her dagger at Rachel. ‘What about their allies, huh? Did you see that tribe of twoheaded men that arrived yesterday? Or the glowing red dog-headed guys with the big poleaxes? They look pretty barbaric to me. It would’ve been nice if you’d foreseen any of that, if your Oracle power didn’t break down when we needed it most!’

Rachel’s face turned as red as her hair. ‘That’s hardly my fault. Something is wrong with Apollo’s gifts of prophecy. If I knew how to fix it –’

‘She’s right.’ Will Solace, head counsellor for the Apollo cabin, put his hand gently on Clarisse’s wrist. Not many campers could’ve done that without getting stabbed, but Will had a way of defusing people’s anger. He got her to lower her dagger. ‘Everyone in our cabin has been affected. It’s not just Rachel.’

Will’s shaggy blond hair and pale blue eyes reminded Nico of Jason Grace, but the similarities ended there. Jason was a fighter. You could tell from the intensity of his stare, his constant alertness, the coiledup energy in his frame. Will Solace was more like a lanky cat stretched out in the sunshine. His movements were relaxed and nonthreatening, his gaze soft and far away. In his faded SURF BARBADOS T-shirt, his cutoff shorts and flip-flops, he looked about as unaggressive as a demigod could get, but Nico knew he was brave under fire. During the Battle of Manhattan, Nico had seen him in action – the camp’s best combat medic, risking his life to save wounded campers.

‘We don’t know what’s going on at Delphi,’ Will continued. ‘My dad hasn’t answered any prayers, or appeared in any dreams … I mean, all the gods have been silent, but this isn’t like Apollo. Something’s wrong.’

Across the table, Jake Mason grunted. ‘Probably this Roman dirt-wipe who’s leading the attack – Octavian what’s-his-name. If I was Apollo and my descendant was acting that way, I’d go into hiding out of shame.’

‘I agree,’ Will said. ‘I wish I was a better archer … I wouldn’t mind shooting my Roman relative off his high horse. Actually, I wish I could use any of my father’s gifts to stop this war.’ He looked down at his own hands with distaste. ‘Unfortunately, I’m just a healer.’

‘Your talents are essential,’ Chiron said. ‘I fear we’ll need them soon enough. As for seeing the future … what about the harpy Ella? Has she offered any advice from the Sibylline Books?’

Rachel shook her head. ‘The poor thing is scared out of her wits. Harpies hate being imprisoned. Ever since the Romans surrounded us … well, she feels trapped. She knows Octavian means to capture her. It’s all Tyson and I can do to keep her from flying away.’

‘Which would be suicide.’ Butch Walker, son of Iris, crossed his burly arms. ‘With those Roman eagles in the air, flying isn’t safe. I’ve already lost two pegasi.’

‘At least Tyson brought some of his Cyclops friends to help out,’ Rachel said. ‘That’s a little good news.’

Over by the refreshment table, Connor Stoll laughed. He had a fistful of Ritz crackers in one hand and a can of Easy Cheese in the other. ‘A dozen full-grown Cyclopes? That’s a lot of good news! Plus, Lou Ellen and the Hecate kids have been putting up magic barriers, and the whole Hermes cabin has been lining the hills with traps and snares and all kinds of nice surprises for the Romans!’

Jake Mason frowned. ‘Most of which you stole from Bunker Nine and the Hephaestus cabin.’

Clarisse grumbled in agreement. ‘They even stole the landmines from around the Ares cabin. How do you steal live landmines?’

‘We commandeered them for the war effort.’ Connor sprayed a glob of Easy Cheese into his mouth. ‘Besides, you guys have plenty of toys. You can share!’

Chiron turned to his left, where the satyr Grover Underwood sat in silence, fingering his reed pipes. ‘Grover? What news from the nature spirits?’

Grover heaved a sigh. ‘Even on a good day, it’s hard to organize nymphs and dryads. With Gaia stirring, they’re almost as disoriented as the gods. Katie and Miranda from the Demeter cabin are out there right now trying to help, but if the Earth Mother wakes …’ He looked around the table nervously. ‘Well, I can’t promise the woods will be safe. Or the hills. Or the strawberry fields. Or –’

‘Great.’ Jake Mason elbowed Clovis, who was starting to nod off. ‘So what do we do?’

‘Attack.’ Clarisse pounded the ping-pong table, which made everyone flinch. ‘The Romans are getting more reinforcements by the day. We know they plan to invade on August first. Why should we let them set the timetable? I can only guess they’re waiting to gather more forces. They already outnumber us. We should attack now, before they get any stronger; take the fight to them!’

Malcolm, the acting head counsellor for Athena, coughed into his fist. ‘Clarisse, I get your point. But have you studied Roman engineering? Their temporary camp is better defended than Camp HalfBlood. Attack them at their base, and we’d be massacred.’

‘So we just wait?’ Clarisse demanded. ‘Let them get all their forces prepared while Gaia gets closer to waking? I have Coach Hedge’s pregnant wife under my protection. I am not going to let anything happen to her. I owe Hedge my life. Besides, I’ve been training the campers more than you have, Malcolm. Their morale is low. Everybody is scared. If we’re under siege another nine days –’

‘We should stick to Annabeth’s plan.’ Connor Stoll looked about as serious as he ever did, despite the Easy Cheese around his mouth. ‘We have to hold out until she gets that magic Athena statue back here.’

Clarisse rolled her eyes. ‘You mean if that Roman praetor gets the statue back here. I don’t understand what Annabeth was thinking, collaborating with the enemy. Even if the Roman manages to bring us the statue – which is impossible – we’re supposed to trust that will bring peace? The statue arrives and suddenly the Romans lay down their weapons and start dancing around, throwing flowers?’

Rachel set down her marker pen. ‘Annabeth knows what she’s doing. We have to try for peace. Unless we can unite the Greeks and Romans, the gods won’t be healed. Unless the gods are healed, there’s no way we can kill the giants. And unless we kill the giants –’

‘Gaia wakes,’ Connor said. ‘Game over. Look, Clarisse, Annabeth sent me a message from Tartarus. From fricking Tartarus. Anybody who can do that … hey, I listen to them.’

Clarisse opened her mouth to reply, but when she spoke it was Coach Hedge’s voice: ‘Nico, wake up. We’ve got problems.’

Nico sat up so quickly he head-butted the satyr in the nose.

‘OW! Jeez, kid, you got a hard noggin!’

‘S-sorry, Coach.’ Nico blinked, trying to get his bearings. ‘What’s going on?’

He didn’t see any immediate threat. They were camped on a sunny lawn in the middle of a public square. Beds of orange marigolds bloomed all around them. Reyna was sleeping curled up, with her two metal dogs at her feet. A stone’s throw away, little kids played tag around a white marble fountain. At a nearby pavement café, half a dozen people sipped coffee in the shade of patio umbrellas. A few delivery vans were parked along the edges of the square, but there was no traffic. The only pedestrians were a few families, probably locals, enjoying a warm afternoon.

The square itself was paved with cobblestones, edged with white stucco buildings and lemon trees. In the centre stood the well-preserved shell of a Roman temple. Its square base stretched maybe fifty feet wide and ten feet tall, with an intact facade of Corinthian columns rising another twenty-five feet.

And at the top of the colonnade …

Nico’s mouth went dry. ‘Oh, Styx.’

The Athena Parthenos lay sideways along the tops of the columns like a nightclub singer sprawled across a piano. Lengthwise, she fitted almost perfectly, but with Nike in her extended hand she was a bit too wide. She looked like she might topple forward at any moment.

‘What is she doing up there?’ Nico asked.

‘You tell me.’ Hedge rubbed his bruised nose. ‘That’s where we appeared. Almost fell to our deaths, but luckily I’ve got nimble hooves. You were unconscious, hanging in your harness like a tangled paratrooper until we managed to get you down.’

Nico tried to picture that, then decided he’d rather not. ‘Is this Spain?’

‘Portugal,’ Hedge said. ‘You overshot. By the way, Reyna speaks Spanish; she does not speak Portuguese. Anyway, while you were asleep, we figured out this city is Évora. Good news: it’s a sleepy little place. Nobody’s bothered us. Nobody seems to notice the giant Athena sleeping on top of the Roman temple, which is called the Temple of Diana, in case you were wondering. And people here appreciate my street performances! I’ve made about sixteen euros.’ He picked up his baseball cap, which jangled with coins.

Nico felt ill. ‘Street performances?’

‘A little singing,’ the coach said. ‘A little martial arts. Some interpretive dance.’

‘Wow.’

‘I know! The Portuguese have taste. Anyway, I supposed this was a decent place to lie low for a couple of days.’

Nico stared at him. ‘A couple of days?’

‘Hey, kid, we didn’t have much choice. In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve been working yourself to death with all that shadow-jumping. We tried to wake you up last night. No dice.’

‘So I’ve been asleep for –’

‘About thirty-six hours. You needed it.’

Nico was glad he was sitting down. Otherwise he would’ve fallen down. He could’ve sworn he’d only slept a few minutes, but as his drowsiness faded he realized he felt more clear-headed and rested than he had in weeks, maybe since before he went looking for the Doors of Death.

His stomach growled. Coach Hedge raised his eyebrows.

‘You must be hungry,’ said the satyr. ‘Either that, or your stomach speaks hedgehog. That was quite a statement in hedgehog.’

‘Food would be good,’ Nico agreed. ‘But first, what’s the bad news … I mean, aside from the statue being sideways? You said we had trouble.’

‘Oh, right.’ The coach pointed to a gated archway at the corner of the square. Standing in the shadows was a glowing, vaguely human figure outlined in grey flames. The spirit’s features were indistinct, but it seemed to be beckoning to Nico.

‘Burning Man showed up a few minutes ago,’ said Coach Hedge. ‘He doesn’t get any closer. When I tried to go over there, he disappeared. Not sure if he’s a threat, but he seems to be asking for you.’

Nico assumed it was a trap. Most things were.

But Coach Hedge promised he could guard Reyna for a little longer and, on the off chance the spirit had something useful to say, Nico decided it was worth the risk. He unsheathed his Stygian iron blade and approached the archway.

Normally ghosts didn’t scare him. (Assuming, of course, Gaia hadn’t encased them in shells of stone and turned them into killing machines. That had been a new one for him.) After his experience with Minos, Nico realized that most spectres held only as much power as you allowed them to have. They pried into your mind, using fear or anger or longing to influence you. Nico had learned to shield himself. Sometimes he could even turn the tables and bend ghosts to hiswill.

As he approached the fiery grey apparition, he was fairly sure it was a garden-variety wraith – a lost soul who had died in pain. Shouldn’t be a problem.

Still, Nico took nothing for granted. He remembered Croatia all too well. He’d gone into that situation smug and confident, only to have his feet swept out from under him, literally and emotionally. First Jason Grace had grabbed him and flown him over a wall. Then the god Favonius had dissolved him into wind. And as for that arrogant thug, Cupid …

Nico clenched his sword. Sharing his secret crush hadn’t been the worst of it. Eventually he might have done that, in his own time, in his own way. But being forced to talk about Percy, being bullied and harassed and strong-armed simply for Cupid’s amusement …

Tendrils of darkness were now spreading out from his feet, killing all the weeds between the cobblestones. Nico tried to rein in his anger.

When he reached the ghost, he saw it wore a monk’s habit – sandals, woollen robes and a wooden cross around his neck. Grey flames swirled around him – burning his sleeves, blistering his face, turning his eyebrows to ashes. He seemed to be stuck in the moment of his immolation, like a blackand-white video on a permanent loop.

‘You were burned alive,’ Nico sensed. ‘Probably in the Middle Ages?’

The ghost’s face distorted in a silent scream of agony, but his eyes looked bored, even a little annoyed, as if the scream was just an automatic reflex he couldn’t control.

‘What do you want of me?’ Nico asked.

The ghost gestured for Nico to follow. It turned and walked through the open gateway. Nico glanced back at Coach Hedge. The satyr just made a shooing gesture like, Go. Do your Underworld thing.

Nico trailed the ghost through the streets of Évora.

They zigzagged through narrow cobblestone walkways, past courtyards with potted hibiscus trees and white stucco buildings with butterscotch trim and wrought-iron balconies. No one noticed the ghost, but the locals looked askance at Nico. A young girl with a fox terrier crossed the street to avoid him. Her dog growled, the hair on its back standing straight up like a dorsal fin.

The ghost led Nico to another public square, anchored at one end by a large square church with whitewashed walls and limestone arches. The ghost passed through the portico and disappeared inside.

Nico hesitated. He had nothing against churches, but this one radiated death. Inside would be tombs, or perhaps something less pleasant …

He ducked through the doorway. His eyes were drawn to a side chapel, lit from within by eerie golden light. Carved over the door was a Portuguese inscription. Nico didn’t speak the language, but he remembered his childhood Italian well enough to glean the general meaning: We, the bones that are here, await yours.

‘Cheery,’ he muttered.

He entered the chapel. At the far end stood an altar, where the fiery wraith knelt in prayer, but Nico was more interested in the room itself. The walls were constructed of bones and skulls – thousands upon thousands, cemented together. Columns of bones held up a vaulted ceiling decorated with images of death. On one wall, like coats on a coat rack, hung the desiccated, skeletal remains of two people – an adult and a small child.

‘A beautiful room, isn’t it?’

Nico turned. A year ago, he would’ve jumped out of his skin if his father suddenly appeared next to him. Now, Nico was able to control his heart rate, along with his desire to knee his father in the groin and run away.

Like the wraith, Hades was dressed in the habit of a Franciscan monk, which Nico found vaguely disturbing. His black robes were tied at the waist with a simple white cord. His cowl was pushed back, revealing dark hair shorn close to the scalp and eyes that glittered like frozen tar. The god’s expression was calm and content, as if he’d just come home from a lovely evening strolling through the Fields of Punishment, enjoying the screams of the damned.

‘Getting some redecorating ideas?’ Nico asked. ‘Maybe you could do your dining room in mediaeval monk skulls.’

Hades arched an eyebrow. ‘I can never tell when you’re joking.’

‘Why are you here, Father? How are you here?’

Hades traced his fingers along the nearest column, leaving bleached white marks on the old bones. ‘You’re a hard mortal to find, my son. For several days I’ve been searching. When the sceptre of Diocletian exploded … well, that got my attention.’

Nico felt a flush of shame. Then he felt angry for feeling ashamed. ‘Breaking the sceptre wasn’t my fault. We were about to be overrun –’

‘Oh, the sceptre isn’t important. A relic that old, I’m surprised you got two uses out of it. The explosion simply gave me some clarity. It allowed me to pinpoint your location. I was hoping to speak to you in Pompeii, but it is so … well, Roman. This chapel was the first place where my presence was strong enough that I could appear to you as myself – by which I mean Hades, god of the dead, not split with that other manifestation. Hades breathed in the stale dank air. ‘I am very drawn to this place. The remains of five thousand monks were used to build the Chapel of Bones. It serves as a reminder that life is short and death is eternal. I feel focused here. Even so, I only have a few moments.’

Story of our relationship, Nico thought. You only ever have a few moments.

‘So tell me, Father. What do you want?’

Hades clasped his hands together in the sleeves of his robe. ‘Can you entertain the notion that I might be here to help you, not simply because I want something?’

Nico almost laughed, but his chest felt too hollow. ‘I can entertain the notion that you might be here for multiple reasons.’

The god frowned. ‘I suppose that’s fair enough. You seek information about Gaia’s hunter. His name is Orion.’

Nico hesitated. He wasn’t used to getting a direct answer, without games or riddles or quests. ‘Orion. Like the constellation. Wasn’t he … a friend of Artemis?’

‘He was,’ Hades said. ‘A giant born to oppose the twins, Apollo and Artemis, but, much like Artemis, Orion rejected his destiny. He sought to live on his own terms. First he tried to live among mortals as a huntsman for the king of Khios. He, ah, ran into some trouble with the king’s daughter. The king had Orion blinded and exiled.’

Nico thought back to what Reyna had told him. ‘My friend dreamed of a hunter with glowing eyes. If Orion is blind –’

‘He was blind,’ Hades corrected. ‘Shortly after his exile, Orion met Hephaestus, who took pity on the giant and crafted him new mechanical eyes even better than the originals. Orion became friends with Artemis. He was the first male ever allowed to join her Hunt. But … things went wrong between them. How exactly, I do not know. Orion was slain. Now he has returned as a loyal son of Gaia, ready to do her bidding. He is driven by bitterness and anger. You can understand that.’

Nico wanted to yell, Like you know what I feel?

Instead he asked, ‘How do we stop him?’

‘You cannot,’ Hades said. ‘Your only hope is to outrun him, accomplish your quest before he reaches you. Apollo or Artemis might be able to slay him, arrows against arrows, but the twins are in no condition to aid you. Even now, Orion has your scent. His hunting pack is almost upon you. You won’t have the luxury of more rest from here to Camp Half-Blood.’

A belt seemed to tighten around Nico’s ribs. He’d left Coach Hedge on guard duty with Reyna asleep. ‘I need to get back to my companions.’

‘Indeed,’ Hades said. ‘But there is more. Your sister …’ Hades faltered. As always, the subject of Bianca lay between them like a loaded gun – deadly, easy to reach, impossible to ignore. ‘I mean your other sister, Hazel … she has discovered that one of the Seven will die. She may try to prevent this. In doing so, she may lose sight of her priorities.’

Nico didn’t trust himself to speak.

To his surprise, his thoughts didn’t leap first to Percy. His primary concern was for Hazel, then for Jason, then for Percy and the others aboard the Argo II. They’d saved him in Rome. They’d welcomed him aboard their ship. Nico had never allowed himself the luxury of friends, but the crew of the Argo II was as close as he’d ever come. The idea of any of them dying made him feel empty – like he was back in the giants’ bronze jar, alone in the dark, subsisting only on sour pomegranate seeds.

Finally he asked, ‘Is Hazel all right?’

‘For the moment.’

‘And the others? Who will die?’

Hades shook his head. ‘Even if I were certain, I could not say. I tell you this because you are my son. You know that some deaths cannot be prevented. Some deaths should not be prevented. When the time comes, you may need to act.’

Nico didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t want to know.

‘My son.’ Hades’s tone was almost gentle. ‘Whatever happens, you have earned my respect. You brought honour to our house when we stood together against Kronos in Manhattan. You risked my wrath to help the Jackson boy – guiding him to the River Styx, freeing him from my prison, pleading with me to raise the armies of Erebos to assist him. Never before have I been so harassed by one of my sons. Percy this and Percy that. I nearly blasted you to cinders.’

Nico took a shallow breath. The walls of the room began to tremble, dust trickling from the cracks between the bones. ‘I didn’t do all that just for him. I did it because the whole world was in danger.’

Hades allowed himself the faintest smile, but there was nothing cruel in his eyes. ‘I can entertain the possibility that you acted for multiple reasons. My point is this: you and I rose to the aid of Olympus because you convinced me to let go of my anger. I would encourage you to do likewise. My children are so rarely happy. I … I would like to see you be an exception.’

Nico stared at his father. He didn’t know what to do with that statement. He could accept many unreal things – hordes of ghosts, magical labyrinths, travel through shadows, chapels made of bones. But tender words from the Lord of the Underworld? No. That made no sense.

Over at the altar, the fiery ghost rose. He approached, burning and screaming silently, his eyes conveying some urgent message.

‘Ah,’ Hades said. ‘This is Brother Paloan. He’s one of hundreds who were burned alive in the square near the old Roman temple. The Inquisition had its headquarters there, you know. At any rate, he suggests you leave now. You have very little time before the wolves arrive.’

‘Wolves? You mean Orion’s pack?’

Hades flicked his hand. The ghost of Brother Paloan disappeared. ‘My son, what you are attempting – shadow-travel across the world, carrying the statue of Athena – it may well destroy you.’

‘Thanks for the encouragement.’

Hades placed his hands briefly on Nico’s shoulders.

Nico didn’t like to be touched, but somehow this brief contact with his father felt reassuring – the same way the Chapel of Bones was reassuring. Like death, his father’s presence was cold and often callous, but it was real – brutally honest, inescapably dependable. Nico found a sort of freedom in knowing that eventually, no matter what happened, he would end up at the foot of his father’s throne.

‘I will see you again,’ Hades promised. ‘I will prepare a room for you at the palace in case you do not survive. Perhaps your chambers would look good decorated with the skulls of monks.’

‘Now I can’t tell if you’re joking.’

Hades’s eyes glittered as his form began to fade. ‘Then perhaps we are alike in some important ways.’

The god vanished.

Suddenly the chapel felt oppressive – thousands of hollow eye sockets staring at Nico. We, the bones that are here, await yours.

He hurried out of the church, hoping he remembered the way back to his friends.

"Wolves?" Reyna asked.

They were eating dinner from the nearby pavement café.

Despite Hades’s warning to hurry back, Nico had found nothing much changed at the camp. Reyna had just awoken. The Athena Parthenos still lay sideways across the top of the temple. Coach Hedge was entertaining a few locals with tap dancing and martial arts, occasionally singing into his megaphone, though nobody seemed to understand what he was saying.

Nico wished the coach hadn’t brought the megaphone. Not only was it loud and obnoxious but also, for no reason Nico understood, it occasionally blurted out random Darth Vader lines from Star Wars or yelled, ‘THE COW GOES MOO!’

As the three of them sat on the lawn to eat, Reyna seemed alert and rested. She and Coach Hedge listened as Nico described his dreams, then his meeting with Hades at the Chapel of Bones. Nico held back a few personal details from his talk with his father, though he sensed that Reyna knew plenty about wrestling with one’s feelings.

When he mentioned Orion and the wolves that were supposedly on their way, Reyna frowned.

‘Most wolves are friendly to Romans,’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard stories about Orion hunting with a pack.’

Nico finished his ham sandwich. He eyed the plate of pastries and was surprised to find he still had an appetite. ‘It could have been a figure of speech: very little time before the wolves arrive. Perhaps Hades didn’t literally mean wolves. At any rate, we should leave as soon as it’s dark enough for shadows.’

Coach Hedge stuffed an issue of Guns & Ammo into his bag. ‘Only problem: the Athena Parthenos is still thirty feet in the air. Gonna be fun hauling you guys and your gear to the top of that temple.’

Nico tried a pastry. The lady at the café had called them farturas. They looked like spiral doughnuts and tasted great – just the right combination of crispy, sugary and buttery – but when Nico first heard fartura he knew Percy would have made a joke out of the name.

America has dough-nuts, Percy would have said. Portugal has fart-nuts.

The older Nico got, the more juvenile Percy seemed to him, though Percy was three years older. Nico found his sense of humour equal parts endearing and annoying. He decided to concentrate on the annoying.

Then there were the times Percy was deadly serious: looking up at Nico from that chasm in Rome – The other side, Nico! Lead them there. Promise me!

And Nico had promised. It didn’t seem to matter how much he resented Percy Jackson; Nico would do anything for him. He hated himself for that.

‘So …’ Reyna’s voice jarred him from his thoughts. ‘Will Camp Half-Blood wait for August first, or will they attack?’

‘We have to hope they wait,’ Nico said. ‘We can’t … I can’t get the statue back any faster.’

Even at this rate, my dad thinks I might die. Nico kept that thought private.

He wished Hazel was with him. Together they had shadow-travelled the entire crew of the Argo II out of the House of Hades. When they shared their power, Nico felt like anything was possible. The trip to Camp Half-Blood could’ve been done in half the time. Besides, Hades’s words about one of the crew dying had sent a chill through him. He couldn’t lose Hazel. Not another sister. Not again.

Coach Hedge looked up from counting the change in his baseball cap. ‘And you’re sure Clarisse said Mellie was okay?’

‘Yes, Coach. Clarisse is taking good care of her.’

‘That’s a relief. I don’t like what Grover said about Gaia whispering to the nymphs and dryads. If the nature spirits turn evil … that’s not going to be pretty.’

Nico had never heard of such a thing happening. Then again, Gaia hadn’t been awake since the dawn of humanity.

Reyna took a bite of her pastry. Her chain mail glittered in the afternoon sun. ‘I wonder about these wolves … Is it possible we’ve misunderstood the message? The goddess Lupa has been very quiet. Perhaps she is sending us aid. The wolves could be from her – to defend us from Orion and his pack.’

The hopefulness in her voice was as thin as gauze. Nico decided not to rip through it.

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But wouldn’t Lupa be busy with the war between the camps? I thought she’d be sending wolves to help your legion.’

Reyna shook her head. ‘Wolves are not front-line fighters. I don’t think she would help Octavian. Her wolves might be patrolling Camp Jupiter, defending it in the legion’s absence, but I just don’t know …’

She crossed her legs at the ankles, and the iron tips of her combat boots glinted. Nico made a mental note not to get into any kicking contests with Roman legionnaires.

‘There’s something else,’ she said. ‘I haven’t had any luck contacting my sister, Hylla. It makes me uneasy that both the wolves and the Amazons have gone silent. If something has happened on the West Coast … I fear the only hope for either camp lies with us. We must return the statue soon. That means the greatest burden is on you, son of Hades.’

Nico tried to swallow his bile. He wasn’t mad at Reyna. He kind of liked Reyna. But so often he’d been called on to do the impossible. Normally, as soon as he accomplished it, he was forgotten. He remembered how nice the kids at Camp Half-Blood had been to him after the war with Kronos.

Great job, Nico! Thanks for bringing the armies of the Underworld to save us!

Everybody smiled. They all invited him to sit at their table.

After about a week, his welcome wore thin. Campers would jump when he walked up behind them. He would emerge from the shadows at the campfire, startle somebody and see the discomfort in their eyes: Are you still here? Why are you here?

It didn’t help that immediately after the war with Kronos, Annabeth and Percy had started dating …

Nico set down his fartura. Suddenly it didn’t taste so good.

He recalled his talk with Annabeth at Epirus, just before he’d left with the Athena Parthenos. She’d pulled him aside and said, ‘Hey, I have to talk to you.’

Panic had seized him. She knows.

‘I want to thank you,’ she continued. ‘Bob … the Titan … he only helped us in Tartarus because you were kind to him. You told him we were worth saving. That’s the only reason we’re alive.’

She said we so easily, as if she and Percy were interchangeable, inseparable.

Nico had once read a story from Plato, who claimed that in the ancient times all humans had been a combination of male and female. Each person had two heads, four arms, four legs. Supposedly, these combo-humans had been so powerful they made the gods uneasy, so Zeus split them in half – man and woman. Ever since, humans had felt incomplete. They spent their lives searching for their other halves.

And where does that leave me? Nico wondered.

It wasn’t his favourite story.

He wanted to hate Annabeth, but he just couldn’t. She’d gone out of her way to thank him at Epirus. She was genuine and sincere. She never overlooked him or avoided him like most people did. Why couldn’t she be a horrible person? That would’ve made it easier.

The wind god Favonius had warned him in Croatia: If you let your anger rule you … your fate will be even sadder than mine.

But how could his fate be anything but sad? Even if he lived through this quest, he would have to leave both camps forever. That was the only way he would find peace. He wished there was another option – a choice that didn’t hurt like the waters of the Phlegethon – but he couldn’t see one.

Reyna was studying him, probably trying to read his thoughts. She glanced down at his hands, and Nico realized he was twisting his silver skull ring – the last gift Bianca had given him.

‘Nico, how can we help you?’ Reyna asked.

Another question he wasn’t used to hearing.

‘I’m not sure,’ he admitted. ‘You’ve already let me rest as much as possible. That’s important. Perhaps you can lend me your strength again. This next jump will be the longest. I’ll have to muster enough energy to get us across the Atlantic.’

‘You’ll succeed,’ Reyna promised. ‘Once we’re back in the U.S., we should encounter fewer monsters. I might even be able to get help from retired legionnaires along the eastern seaboard. They are obliged to aid any Roman demigod who calls on them.’

Hedge grunted. ‘If Octavian hasn’t already won them over. In which case, you might find yourself arrested for treason.’

‘Coach,’ Reyna scolded, ‘not helping.’

‘Hey, just sayin’. Personally, I wish we could stay in Évora longer. Good food, good money and so far no sign of these figurative wolves –’

Reyna’s dogs sprang to their feet.

In the distance, howls pierced the air. Before Nico could stand, wolves appeared from every direction – huge black beasts leaping from the roofs, surrounding their encampment. The largest of them padded forward. The alpha wolf stood on his haunches and began to change. His forelegs grew into arms. His snout shrank into a pointy nose. His grey fur morphed into a cloak of woven animal pelts. He became a tall, wiry man with a haggard face and glowing red eyes. A crown of finger bones circled his greasy black hair.

‘Ah, little satyr …’ The man grinned, revealing pointed fangs. ‘Your wish is granted! You will stay in Évora forever, because, sadly for you, my figurative wolves are literally wolves.

"You're not Orion," Nico blurted.

A stupid comment, but it was the first thing that came to his mind.

The man before him clearly was not a hunter giant. He wasn’t tall enough. He didn’t have dragon legs. He didn’t carry a bow or quiver, and he didn’t have the headlamp eyes Reyna had described from her dream.

The grey man laughed. ‘Indeed not. Orion has merely employed me to assist him in his hunt. I am –’

‘Lycaon,’ Reyna interrupted. ‘The first werewolf.’

The man gave her a mock bow. ‘Reyna Ramírez-Arellano, praetor of Rome. One of Lupa’s whelps! I’m pleased you recognize me. No doubt, I am the stuff of your nightmares.’

‘The stuff of my indigestion, perhaps.’ From her belt pouch, Reyna produced a foldable campingknife. She flicked it open and the wolves snarled, backing away. ‘I never travel without a silver weapon.’

Lycaon bared his teeth. ‘Would you keep a dozen wolves and their king at bay with a pocketknife? I heard you were brave, filia Romana. I did not realize you were foolhardy.’

Reyna’s dogs crouched, ready to spring. The coach gripped his baseball bat, though for once he didn’t look anxious to swing.

Nico reached for the hilt of his sword.

‘Don’t bother,’ muttered Coach Hedge. ‘These guys are only hurt by silver or fire. I remember them from Pikes Peak. They’re annoying.’

‘And I remember you, Gleeson Hedge.’ The werewolf’s eyes glowed lava red. ‘My pack will be delighted to have goat meat for dinner.’

Hedge snorted. ‘Bring it on, mangy boy. The Hunters of Artemis are on their way right now, just like last time! That’s a temple of Diana over there, you idiot. You’re on their home turf!’

Again the wolves snarled and widened their circle. Some glanced nervously towards the rooftops.

Lycaon only glared at the coach. ‘A nice try, but I’m afraid that temple has been misnamed. I passed through here during Roman times. It was actually dedicated to the Emperor Augustus. Typical demigod vanity. Regardless, I’ve been much more careful since our last encounter. If the Hunters were anywhere close by, I would know.’

Nico tried to think of an escape plan. They were surrounded and outnumbered. Their only effective weapon was a pocketknife. The sceptre of Diocletian was gone. The Athena Parthenos was thirty feet above them at the top of the temple, and even if they could reach it they couldn’t shadow-travel until they actually had shadows. The sun wouldn’t set for hours.

He hardly felt brave, but he stepped forward. ‘So you’ve got us. What are you waiting for?’

Lycaon studied him like a new type of meat in a butcher’s display case. ‘Nico di Angelo … son of Hades. I’ve heard of you. I’m sorry I can’t kill you promptly, but I promised my employer Orion that I would detain you until he arrives. No worries. He should be here in a few moments. Once he’s done with you, I shall spill your blood and mark this place as my territory for ages to come!’

Nico gritted his teeth. ‘Demigod blood. The blood of Olympus.’

‘Of course!’ Lycaon said. ‘Spilled upon the ground, especially sacred ground, demigod blood has many uses. With the proper incantations, it can awaken monsters or even gods. It can cause new life to spring up or make a place barren for generations. Alas, your blood will not wake Gaia herself. That honour is reserved for your friends aboard the Argo II. But fear not. Your death will be almost as painful as theirs.’

The grass started dying around Nico’s feet. The marigold beds withered. Barren ground, he thought. Sacred ground.

He remembered the thousands of skeletons in the Chapel of Bones. He recalled what Hades had said about this public square, where the Inquisition had burned hundreds of people alive. This was an ancient city. How many dead lay in the ground beneath his feet?

‘Coach,’ he said, ‘you can climb?’

Hedge scoffed. ‘I’m half goat. Of course I can climb!’

‘Get up to the statue and secure the rigging. Make a rope ladder and drop it down for us.’

‘Uh, but the pack of wolves –’

‘Reyna,’ Nico said, ‘you and your dogs will have to cover our retreat.’

The praetor nodded grimly. ‘Understood.’

Lycaon howled with laughter. ‘Retreat to where, son of Hades? There is no escape. You cannot kill us!’

‘Maybe not,’ Nico said. ‘But I can slow you down.’

He spread his hands and the ground erupted.

Nico hadn’t expected it to work so well. He had pulled bone fragments from the earth before. He’d animated rat skeletons and unearthed the odd human skull. Nothing prepared him for the wall of bones that burst skyward – hundreds of femurs, ribs and fibulas entangling the wolves, forming a spiky briar patch of human remains.

Most of the wolves were hopelessly trapped. Some writhed and gnashed their teeth, trying to free themselves from their haphazard cages. Lycaon himself was immobilized in a cocoon of rib bones, but that didn’t stop him from screaming curses.

‘You worthless child!’ he roared. ‘I will rip the flesh from your limbs!’

‘Coach, go!’ Nico said.

The satyr sprinted towards the temple. He made the top of the podium in a single leap and scrambled up the left pillar.

Two wolves broke free from the thicket of bones. Reyna threw her knife and impaled one in the neck. Her dogs pounced on the other. Aurum’s fangs and claws slipped harmlessly off the wolf’s hide, but Argentum brought the beast down.

Argentum’s head was still bent sideways from the fight in Pompeii. His left ruby eye was still missing, but he managed to sink his fangs into the wolf’s scruff. The wolf dissolved into a puddle of shadow.

Thank goodness for silver dogs, Nico thought.

Reyna drew her sword. She scooped a handful of silver coins from Hedge’s baseball cap, grabbed duct tape from the coach’s supply bag and began taping coins around her blade. The girl was nothing if not inventive.

‘Go!’ she told Nico. ‘I’ll cover you!’

The wolves struggled, causing the bone thicket to crack and crumble. Lycaon freed his right arm and began smashing through his prison of ribcages.

‘I will flay you alive!’ he promised. ‘I will add your pelt to my cloak!’

Nico ran, pausing just long enough to grab Reyna’s silver pocketknife from the ground. He wasn’t a mountain goat, but he found a set of stairs at the back of the temple and raced to the top. He reached the base of the columns and squinted up at Coach Hedge, who was precariously perched at the feet of the Athena Parthenos, unravelling ropes and knotting a ladder.

‘Hurry!’ Nico yelled.

‘Oh, really?’ the coach called down. ‘I thought we had tons of time!’

The last thing Nico needed was satyr sarcasm. Down in the square, more wolves broke free of their bone restraints. Reyna swatted them aside with her modified duct-tape-coin-sword, but a handful of change wasn’t going to hold back a pack of werewolves for long. Aurum snarled and snapped in frustration, unable to hurt the enemy. Argentum did his best, sinking his claws into the throat of another wolf, but the silver dog was already damaged. Soon he’d be hopelessly outnumbered.

Lycaon freed both his arms. He started pulling his legs from their ribcage restraints. There were only a few seconds until he would be loose.

Nico was out of tricks. Summoning that wall of bones had drained him. It would take all his remaining energy to shadow-travel – assuming he could even find a shadow to travel into.

A shadow.

He looked at the silver pocketknife in his hand. An idea came to him – possibly the stupidest, craziest idea he’d had since he thought, Hey, I’ll get Percy to swim in the River Styx! He’ll love me for that!

‘Reyna, get up here!’ he yelled.

She slammed another wolf in the head and ran. In mid-stride, she flicked her sword, which elongated into a javelin, then used it to launch herself up like a pole-vaulter. She landed next to Nico.

‘What’s the plan?’ she asked, not even out of breath.

‘Show-off,’ he grumbled.

A knotted rope fell from above.

‘Climb, ya silly non-goats!’ Hedge yelled.

‘Go,’ Nico told her. ‘Once you’re up there, hang on tight to the rope.’

‘Nico –’

‘Do it!’

Her javelin shrank back into a sword. Reyna sheathed it and began to climb, scaling the column despite her armour and her supplies.

Down in the plaza, Aurum and Argentum were nowhere to be seen. Either they’d retreated or they’d been destroyed.

Lycaon broke free of his bone cage with a triumphant howl. ‘You will suffer, son of Hades!’

What else is new? Nico thought.

He palmed the pocketknife. ‘Come get me, you mutt! Or do you have to stay like a good dog until your master shows up?’

Lycaon sprang through the air, his claws extended, his fangs bared. Nico wrapped his free hand around the rope and concentrated, a bead of sweat trickling down his neck. As the wolf king fell on him, Nico thrust the silver knife into Lycaon’s chest. All around the temple, wolves howled as one.

The wolf king sank his claws into Nico’s arms. His fangs stopped less than an inch from Nico’s face. Nico ignored his own pain and jabbed the pocketknife to the hilt between Lycaon’s ribs.

‘Be useful, dog,’ he snarled. ‘Back to the shadows.’

Lycaon’s eyes rolled up in his head. He dissolved into a pool of inky darkness.

Then several things happened at once. The outraged pack of wolves surged forward. From a nearby rooftop, a booming voice yelled, ‘STOP THEM!’

Nico heard the unmistakable sound of a large bow being drawn taut.

Then he melted into the pool of Lycaon’s shadow, taking his friends and the Athena Parthenos with him – slipping into cold ether with no idea where he would emerge.

They appeared ten feet in the air, hovering over a restaurant courtyard that Reyna recognized. She and Nico dropped onto a large birdcage, which promptly broke, dumping them into a cluster of potted ferns along with three very alarmed parrots. Coach Hedge hit the canopy over a bar. The Athena Parthenos landed on her feet with a THUMP, flattening a patio table and flipping a dark green umbrella, which settled onto the Nike statue in Athena’s hand, so the goddess of wisdom looked like she was holding a tropical drink.

‘Gah!’ Coach Hedge yelled. The canopy ripped and he fell behind the bar with a crash of bottles and glasses. The satyr recovered well. He popped up with a dozen miniature plastic swords in his hair, grabbed the soda gun and served himself a drink.

‘I like it!’ He tossed a wedge of pineapple into his mouth. ‘But next time, kid, can we land on the floor and not ten feet above it?’

Nico dragged himself out of the ferns. He collapsed into the nearest chair and waved off a blue parrot that was trying to land on his head. After the fight with Lycaon, Nico had discarded his shredded aviator jacket. His black skull-pattern T-shirt wasn’t in much better shape. Reyna had stitched up the gashes on his biceps, which gave Nico a slightly creepy Frankenstein look, but the cuts were still swollen and red. Unlike bites, werewolf claw marks wouldn’t transmit lycanthropy, but Reyna knew firsthand that they healed slowly and burned like acid.

‘I’ve gotta sleep.’ Nico looked up in a daze. ‘Are we safe?’

Reyna scanned the courtyard. The place seemed deserted, though she didn’t understand why. This time of night, it should’ve been packed. Above them, the evening sky glowed a murky terracotta, the same colour as the building’s walls. Ringing the atrium, the second-storey balconies were empty except for potted azaleas hanging from the white metal railings. Behind a wall of glass doors, the restaurant’s interior was dark. The only sound was the fountain gurgling forlornly and the occasional squawk of a disgruntled parrot.

‘This is Barrachina,’ Reyna said.

‘What kind of bear?’ Hedge opened a jar of maraschino cherries and chugged them down.

‘It’s a famous restaurant,’ Reyna said, ‘in the middle of Old San Juan. They invented the piña colada here, back in the 1960s, I think.’

Nico pitched out of his chair, curled up on the floor and started snoring.

Besides, Reyna had been lending Nico her strength for days now. Perhaps she’d influenced him subconsciously. He was drawn to painful thoughts, fear, darkness. And Reyna’s darkest, most painful memory was San Juan. Her biggest fear? Coming back here.

On the other hand, Reyna wanted to leave immediately. She wanted to wake up Nico, no matter how tired he was, and force him to shadow-travel out of here – anywhere but San Juan. Being so close to her old house made Reyna feel ratcheted tight like a catapult winch.

She glanced at Nico. Despite the warm night, he shivered on the tile floor. She pulled a blanket out of her pack and covered him up.

Reyna no longer felt self-conscious about wanting to protect him. For better or worse, they shared a connection now. Each time they shadow-travelled, his exhaustion and torment washed over her and she understood him a little better.

Nico was devastatingly alone. He’d lost his big sister Bianca. He’d pushed away all other demigods who’d tried to get close to him. His experiences at Camp Half-Blood, in the Labyrinth and in Tartarus had left him scarred, afraid to trust anyone.

Reyna doubted she could change his feelings, but she wanted Nico to have support. All heroes deserved that. It was the whole point of the Twelfth Legion. You joined forces to fight for a higher cause. You weren’t alone. You made friends and earned respect. Even when you mustered out, you had a place in the community. No demigod should have to suffer alone the way Nico did.

Tonight was 25 July. Seven more days until 1 August. In theory, that was plenty of time to reach Long Island. Once they completed their mission, if they completed their mission, Reyna would make sure Nico was recognized for his bravery.

She slipped off her backpack. She tried to place it under Nico’s head as a makeshift pillow, but her fingers passed right through him as if he were a shadow. She recoiled her hand.

Cold with dread, she tried again. This time, she was able to lift his neck and slide the pillowunder. His skin felt cool, but otherwise normal.

Had she been hallucinating?

Nico had expended so much energy travelling through shadows … perhaps he was starting to fade permanently. If he kept pushing himself to the limit for seven more days …

The sound of a blender startled her out of her thoughts.

A flash of silver, a faint whoosh, and the point of a needle buried itself in her neck. Her vision blurred. Her limbs turned to spaghetti. She collapsed next to Nico.

As her eyes dimmed, she saw her dogs running towards her, but they froze in mid-bark and toppled over.

At the bar, the coach yelled, ‘Hey!’

Another whoosh. The coach collapsed with a silver dart in his neck.

Reyna tried to say, Nico, wake up. Her voice wouldn’t work. Her body had been deactivated as completely as her metal dogs had.

‘I hope he’s still well,’ Thalia mused. ‘A few nights ago I dreamed about our mother. It … wasn’t pleasant. Then I got Nico’s message in my dreams – about Orion hunting you. That was even less pleasant.’

‘That’s why you’re here. You got Nico’s message.’

‘At any rate,’ Thalia said, ‘we’re keeping an eye on Nico and the satyr. Unauthorized males aren’t allowed anywhere near this place, but we left them a note so they wouldn’t worry.’

‘Charming,’ Reyna said. ‘So my friends, Nico and Gleeson Hedge – are they safe?’

Barrachina was only a few blocks away. If they could make it that far, Nico might be able to shadow-travel them away. And the Hunters couldn’t all be dead … They’d been patrolling the entire perimeter of the old city. Surely some of them were still out there …

Orion hadn’t located the Athena Parthenos. The Hunters’ camouflage had worked. All this time, the giant had been tracking Reyna, which meant that even if she died right now Nico and Coach Hedge might stay safe. The quest was not doomed.

At the same time, Nico di Angelo dropped in front. He slashed his Stygian sword across the giant’s bowstring, causing pulleys and gears to zip and creak, the string recoiling with hundreds of pounds of force until it whacked Orion in the nose like a hydraulic bullwhip.

Nico and Hedge fell in alongside her, both looking very pleased with themselves. They had apparently gone shopping at the Barrachina souvenir shop, where they’d replaced their dirty tattered shirts with loud tropical numbers.

‘Nico,’ Reyna said, ‘you look –’

‘Not a word about the shirt,’ he warned. ‘Not one word.’

Nico took her arm. ‘Reyna, who are they? What do they – ?’

‘I can’t,’ she pleaded. ‘I – I can’t.’

She’d spent so many years building a dam inside her to hold back the fear. Now, it broke. Her strength washed away.

‘It’s all right.’ Nico gazed up at the balconies. The ghosts disappeared, but Reyna knew they weren’t really gone. They were never really gone. ‘We’ll get you out of here,’ Nico promised. ‘Let’s move.’

Given a choice between death and the Buford Zippy Mart, Nico would’ve had a tough time deciding. At least he knew his way around the Land of the Dead. Plus the food was fresher.

‘I still don’t get it,’ Coach Hedge muttered as they roamed the centre aisle. ‘They named a whole town after Leo’s table?’

‘I think the town was here first, Coach,’ Nico said.

‘Huh.’ The coach picked up a box of powdered doughnuts. ‘Maybe you’re right. These look at least a hundred years old. I miss those Portuguese farturas.’

Nico couldn’t think about Portugal without his arms hurting. Across his biceps, the werewolf claw marks were still swollen and red. The store clerk had asked Nico if he’d picked a fight with a bobcat.

They bought a first-aid kit, a pad of paper (so Coach Hedge could write more paper aeroplane messages to his wife), some junk food and soda (since the banquet table in Reyna’s new magic tent only provided healthy food and fresh water) and some miscellaneous camping supplies for Coach Hedge’s useless but impressively complicated monster traps.

Nico had been hoping to find some fresh clothes. Two days since they’d fled San Juan, he was tired of walking around in his tropical ISLA DEL ENCANTORICO shirt, especially since Coach Hedge had a matching one. Unfortunately, the Zippy Mart only carried T-shirts with Confederate flags and corny sayings like KEEP CALM AND FOLLOW THE REDNECK. Nico decided he’d stick with parrots and palm trees.

They walked back to the campsite down a two-lane road under the blazing sun. This part of South Carolina seemed to consist mostly of overgrown fields, punctuated by telephone poles and trees covered in kudzu vines. The town of Buford itself was a collection of portable metal sheds – six or seven, which was probably also the town’s population.

Nico wasn’t exactly a sunshine person, but for once he welcomed the warmth. It made him feel more substantial – anchored to the mortal world. With every shadow-jump, coming back got harder and harder. Even in broad daylight his hand passed through solid objects. His belt and sword kept falling around his ankles for no apparent reason. Once, when he wasn’t looking where he was going, he walked straight through a tree.

Nico remembered something Jason Grace had told him in the palace of Notus: Maybe it’s time you come out of the shadows.

If only I could, he thought. For the first time in his life, he had begun to fear the dark, because he might melt into it permanently.

Nico and Hedge had no trouble finding their way back to camp. The Athena Parthenos was the tallest landmark for miles around. In its new camouflage netting, it glittered silver like an extremely flashy forty-foot-tall ghost.

Apparently, the Athena Parthenos had wanted them to visit a place with educational value, because she’d landed right next to a historical marker that read MASSACRE OF BUFORD, on a gravel layby at the intersection of Nowhere and Nothing.

Reyna’s tent sat in a grove of trees about thirty yards back from the road. Nearby lay a rectangular cairn – hundreds of stones piled in the shape of an oversized grave with a granite obelisk for a headstone. Scattered around it were faded wreathes and crushed bouquets of plastic flowers, which made the place seem even sadder.

Aurum and Argentum were playing keep-away in the woods with one of the coach’s handbells. Ever since getting repaired by the Amazons, the metal dogs had been frisky and full of energy – unlike their owner.

Reyna sat cross-legged at the entrance of the tent, staring at the memorial obelisk. She hadn’t said much since they fled San Juan two days ago. They’d also not encountered any monsters, which made Nico uneasy. They’d had no further word from the Hunters or the Amazons. They didn’t know what had happened to Hylla, or Thalia, or the giant Orion.

Nico didn’t like the Hunters of Artemis. Tragedy followed them as surely as their dogs and birds of prey. His sister Bianca had died after joining the Hunters. Then Thalia Grace became their leader and started recruiting even more young women to their cause, which grated on Nico – as if Bianca’s death could be forgotten. As if she could be replaced.

When Nico had woken up at Barrachina and found the Hunters’ note about kidnapping Reyna, he’d torn apart the courtyard in rage. He didn’t want the Hunters stealing another important person from him.

Fortunately, he’d got Reyna back, but he didn’t like how brooding she had become. Every time he tried to ask her about the incident on the Calle San Jose – those ghosts on the balcony, all staring at her, whispering accusations – Reyna shut him down.

Nico knew something about ghosts. Letting them get inside your head was dangerous. He wanted to help Reyna, but since his own strategy was to deal with his problems alone, spurning anyone who tried to get close, he couldn’t exactly criticize Reyna for doing the same thing.

She glanced up as they approached. ‘I figured it out.’

‘What historical site this is?’ Hedge asked. ‘Good, ’cause it’s been driving me crazy.’

‘The Battle of Waxhaws,’ she said.

‘Ah, right …’ Hedge nodded sagely. ‘That was a vicious little smackdown.’

Nico tried to sense any restless spirits in the area, but he felt nothing. Unusual for a battleground. ‘Are you sure?’

‘In 1780,’ Reyna said. ‘The American Revolution. Most of the Colonial leaders were Greek demigods. The British generals were Roman demigods.’

‘Because England was like Rome back then,’ Nico guessed. ‘A rising empire.’

Reyna picked up a crushed bouquet. ‘I think I know why we landed here. It’s my fault.’

‘Ah, come on,’ Hedge scoffed. ‘The Buford Zippy Mart isn’t anybody’s fault. Those things just happen.’

Reyna picked at the faded plastic flowers. ‘During the Revolution, four hundred Americans got overtaken here by British cavalry. The Colonial troops tried to surrender, but the British were out for blood. They massacred the Americans even after they threw down their weapons. Only a few survived.’

Nico supposed he should have been shocked. But after travelling through the Underworld, hearing so many stories of evil and death, a wartime massacre hardly seemed newsworthy. ‘Reyna, how is that your fault?’

‘The British commander was Banastre Tarleton.’

Hedge snorted. ‘I’ve heard of him. Crazy dude. They called him Benny the Butcher.’

‘Yes …’ Reyna took a shaky breath. ‘He was a son of Bellona.’

‘Oh.’ Nico stared at the oversized grave. It still bothered him that he couldn’t sense any spirits. Hundreds of soldiers massacred at this spot … that should’ve sent out some kind of death vibe. He sat next to Reyna and decided to take a risk. ‘So you think we were drawn here because you have some sort of connection to the ghosts. Like what happened in San Juan?’

For a count of ten she said nothing, turning the plastic bouquet in her hand. ‘I don’t want to talk about San Juan.’

‘You should.’ Nico felt like a stranger in his own body. Why was he encouraging Reyna to share? It wasn’t his style or his business. Nevertheless, he kept talking. ‘The main thing about ghosts – most of them have lost their voices. In Asphodel, millions of them wander around aimlessly, trying to remember who they were. You know why they end up like that? Because in life they never took a stand one way or another. They never spoke out, so they were never heard.

'Your voice is your identity. If you don’t use it,’ he said with a shrug, ‘you’re halfway to Asphodel already.’

Reyna scowled. ‘Is that your idea of a pep talk?’

Coach Hedge cleared his throat. ‘This is getting too psychological for me. I’m going to write some letters.’

He took his notepad and headed into the woods. The last day or so, he’d been writing a lot – apparently not just to Mellie. The coach wouldn’t share details, but he hinted that he was calling in some favours to help with the quest. For all Nico knew, he was writing to Jackie Chan.

Nico opened his shopping bag. He pulled out a box of Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pies and offered one to Reyna.

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Those look like they went stale in dinosaur times.’

‘Maybe. But I’ve got a big appetite these days. Any kind of food tastes good … except maybe pomegranate seeds. I’m done with those.’

Reyna picked out a creme pie and took a bite. ‘The ghosts in San Juan … they were my ancestors.’

Nico waited. The breeze ruffled the camouflage netting over the Athena Parthenos.

‘The Ramírez-Arellano family goes back a long way,’ Reyna continued. ‘I don’t know the whole story. My ancestors lived in Spain when it was a Roman province. My great great-somethingsomething-grandfather was a conquistador. He came over to Puerto Rico with Ponce de León.’

‘One of the ghosts on the balcony was wearing conquistador armour,’ Nico recalled.

‘That’s him.’

‘So … is your whole family descended from Bellona? I thought you and Hylla were her daughters, not legacies.’

Too late, Nico realized he shouldn’t have brought up Hylla. A look of despair passed over Reyna’sface, though she managed to hide it quickly.

‘We are her daughters,’ Reyna said. ‘We’re the first actual children of Bellona in the RamírezArellano family. And Bellona has always favoured our clan. Millennia ago, she decreed that we would play pivotal roles in many battles.’

‘Like you’re doing now,’ Nico said.

Reyna brushed crumbs from her chin. ‘Perhaps. Some of my ancestors have been heroes. Some have been villains. You saw the ghost with the gunshot wounds in the chest?’

Nico nodded. ‘A pirate?’

‘The most famous in Puerto Rican history. He was known as the Pirate Cofresí, but his family name was Ramírez de Arellano. Our house, the family villa, was built with money from treasure that he buried.’

For a moment, Nico felt like a little kid again. He was tempted to blurt out, That’s so cool! Even before he got into Mythomagic, he’d been obsessed with pirates. Probably that was one reason he’d been so smitten with Percy, a son of the sea god.

‘And the other ghosts?’ he asked.

Reyna took another bite of creme pie. ‘The guy in the U.S. Navy uniform … he’s my great-greatuncle from World War Two, the first Latino submarine commander. You get theidea. A lot of warriors. Bellona was our patron goddess for generations.’

‘But she never had demigod children in your family – until you.’

‘The goddess … she fell in love with my father, Julian. He was a soldier in Iraq. He was –’ Reyna’s voice broke. She tossed aside the plastic bouquet of flowers. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t talk about him.’

A cloud passed overhead, blanketing the woods in shadows.

Nico didn’t want to push Reyna. What right did he have?

He set down his oatmeal creme pie … and noticed that his fingertips were turning to smoke. The sunlight returned. His hands became solid again, but Nico’s nerves jangled. He felt as if he’d been pulled back from the edge of a high balcony.

Your voice is your identity, he’d told Reyna. If you don’t use it, you’re halfway to Asphodel already.

He hated when his own advice applied to himself.

‘My dad gave me a present once,’ Nico said. ‘It was a zombie.’

Reyna stared at him. ‘What?’

‘His name is Jules-Albert. He’s French.’

‘A … French zombie?’

‘Hades isn’t the greatest dad, but occasionally he has these want to know my son moments. I guess he thought the zombie was a peace offering. He said Jules-Albert could be my chauffeur.’

The corner of Reyna’s mouth twitched. ‘A French zombie chauffeur.’

Nico realized how ridiculous it sounded. He’d never told anyone about Jules-Albert – not even Hazel. But he kept talking.

‘Hades had this idea that I should, you know, try to act like a modern teenager. Make friends. Get to know the twenty-first century. He vaguely understood that mortal parents drive their kids around a lot. He couldn’t do that. So his solution was a zombie.’

‘To take you to the mall,’ Reyna said. ‘Or the drive-through at In-N-Out Burger.’

‘I suppose.’ Nico’s nerves began to settle. ‘Because nothing helps you make friends faster than a rotting corpse with a French accent.’

Reyna laughed. ‘I’m sorry … I shouldn’t make fun.’

‘It’s okay. Point is … I don’t like talking about my dad either. But sometimes,’ he said, looking her in the eyes, ‘you have to.’

Reyna’s expression turned serious. ‘I never knew my father in his better days. Hylla said he used to be gentler when she was very small, before I was born. He was a good soldier – fearless, disciplined, cool under fire. He was handsome. He could be very charming. Bellona blessed him, as she had with so many of my ancestors, but that wasn’t enough for my dad. He wanted her for his wife.’

Over in the woods, Coach Hedge muttered to himself as he wrote. Three paper aeroplanes were already spiralling upward in the breeze, heading to gods knew where.

‘My father dedicated himself completely to Bellona,’ Reyna continued. ‘It’s one thing to respect the power of war. It’s another thing to fall in love with it. I don’t know how he did it, but he managed to win Bellona’s heart. My sister was born just before he went to Iraq for his last tour of duty. He was honourably discharged, came home a hero. If … if he’d been able to adjust to civilian life, everything might have been all right.’

‘But he couldn’t,’ Nico guessed.

Reyna shook her head. ‘Shortly after he got back, he had one last encounter with the goddess … that’s the, um, reason I was born. Bellona gave him a glimpse of the future. She explained why our family was so important to her. She said the legacy of Rome would never fail as long as one of our bloodline remained, fighting to defend our homeland. Those words … I think she meant them to be reassuring, but my father became fixated on them.’

‘War can be hard to get over,’ Nico said, remembering Pietro, one of his neighbours from his childhood in Italy. Pietro had come back from Mussolini’s African campaign in one piece, but, after shelling Ethiopian civilians with mustard gas, his mind was never the same.

Despite the heat, Reyna drew her cloak around her. ‘Part of the problem was post-traumatic stress. He couldn’t stop thinking about the war. And then there was the constant pain – a roadside bomb had left shrapnel in his shoulder and chest. But it was more than that. Over the years, as I was growing up, he … he changed.’

Nico didn’t respond. He’d never had anyone talk to him this openly before, except maybe for Hazel. He felt like he was watching a flock of birds settle on a field. One loud sound might startle them away.

‘He became paranoid,’ Reyna said. ‘He thought Bellona’s words were a warning that our bloodline would be exterminated and the legacy of Rome would fail. He saw enemies everywhere. He collected weapons. He turned our house into a fortress. At night, he would lock Hylla and me in our rooms. If we sneaked out, he would yell at us and throw furniture and … well, he terrified us. At times, he even thought we were the enemies. He became convinced we were spying on him, trying to undermine him. Then the ghosts started appearing. I guess they’d always been there, but they picked up on my father’s agitation and began to manifest. They whispered to him, feeding his suspicions. Finally one day … I can’t tell you for sure when, I realized he had ceased to be my father. He had become one of the ghosts.’

A cold tide rose in Nico’s chest. ‘A mania,’ he speculated. ‘I’ve seen it before. A human withersaway until he’s not human any more. Only his worst qualities remain. His insanity …’

It was clear from Reyna’s expression that his explanation wasn’t helping.

‘Whatever he was,’ Reyna said, ‘he became impossible to live with. Hylla and I escaped the house as often as we could, but eventually we’d come … back … and face his rage. We didn’t know what else to do. He was our only family. The last time we returned, he – he was so angry he was literally glowing. He couldn’t physically touch things any more, but he could move them … like a poltergeist, I guess. He tore up the floor tiles. He ripped open the sofa. Finally he tossed a chair and it hit Hylla. She collapsed. She was only knocked unconscious, but I thought she was dead. She’d spent so many years protecting me … I just lost it. I grabbed the nearest weapon I could find – a family heirloom, the Pirate Confresí’s sabre. I – I didn’t know it was Imperial gold. I ran at my father’s spirit and …’

‘You vaporized him,’ Nico guessed.

Reyna’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘I killed my own father.’

‘No. Reyna, no. That wasn’t him. That was a ghost. Even worse: a mania. You were protecting your sister.’

She twisted the silver ring on her finger. ‘You don’t understand. Patricide is the worst crime a Roman can commit. It’s unforgivable.’

‘You didn’t kill your father. The man was already dead,’ Nico insisted. ‘You dispelled a ghost.’

‘It doesn’t matter!’ Reyna sobbed. ‘If word of this got out at Camp Jupiter –’

‘You’d be executed,’ said a new voice.

At the edge of the woods stood a Roman legionnaire in full armour, holding a pilum. A mop of brown hair hung in his eyes. His nose had obviously been broken at least once, which made his smile look even more sinister. ‘Thank you for your confession, former praetor. You’ve made my job much easier.’

Coach Hedge chose that moment to burst into the clearing, waving a paper aeroplane and yelling, ‘Good news, everyone!’

He froze when he saw the Roman. ‘Oh … never mind.’

He quickly crumpled the aeroplane and ate it.

Reyna and Nico got to their feet. Aurum and Argentum scampered to Reyna’s side and growled at the intruder.

How this guy had got so close with none of them noticing, Nico didn’t understand.

‘Bryce Lawrence,’ Reyna said. ‘Octavian’s newest attack dog.’

The Roman inclined his head. His eyes were green, but not sea green like Percy’s … more like pond-scum green.

‘The augur has many attack dogs,’ Bryce said. ‘I’m just the lucky one who found you. Your Graecus friend here –’ he pointed his chin at Nico – ‘he was easy to track. He stinks of the Underworld.’

Nico unsheathed his sword. ‘You know the Underworld? Would you like me to arrange a visit?’

Bryce laughed. His front teeth were two different shades of yellow. ‘Do you think you can frighten me? I’m a descendant of Orcus, the god of broken vows and eternal punishment. I’ve heard the screams in the Fields of Punishment firsthand. They’re music to my ears. Soon, I’ll be adding one more damned soul to the chorus.’

He grinned at Reyna. ‘Patricide, eh? Octavian will love this news. You are under arrest for multiple violations of Roman law.’

‘You being here is against Roman law,’ Reyna said. ‘Romans don’t quest alone. A mission has to be led by someone of centurion rank or higher. You’re in probatio, and even giving you that rank was a mistake. You have no right to arrest me.’

Bryce shrugged. ‘In times of war, some rules have to be flexible. But don’t worry. Once I bring you in for trial, I’ll be rewarded with full membership in the legion. I imagine I’ll be promoted to centurion, too. Doubtless there will be vacancies after the coming battle. Some officers won’t survive, especially if their loyalties aren’t in the right place.’

Coach Hedge hefted his bat. ‘I don’t know the proper Roman etiquette, but can I bash this kid now?’

‘A faun,’ Bryce said. ‘Interesting. I heard the Greeks actually trusted their goat men.’

Hedge bleated. ‘I’m a satyr. And you can trust I’m going to put this bat upside your head, you little punk.’

The coach advanced, but, as soon as his foot touched the cairn, the stones rumbled like they were coming to the boil. Out of the grave site, skeletal warriors erupted – spartoi in the tattered remains of British redcoat uniforms.

Hedge scrambled away, but the first two skeletons grabbed his arms and lifted him off the ground. The coach dropped his bat and kicked his hooves.

‘Lemme go, ya stupid boneheads!’ he bellowed.

Nico watched, paralysed, as the grave spewed forth more dead British soldiers – five, ten, twenty, multiplying so quickly that Reyna and her metal dogs were surrounded before Nico even thought to raise his sword.

How could he not have sensed so many dead, so close at hand?

‘I forgot to mention,’ Bryce said, ‘I’m actually not alone on this quest. As you can see, I have backup. These redcoats promised quarter to the colonials. Then they butchered them. Personally, I like a good massacre, but, because they broke their oaths, their spirits were damned and they are perpetually under the power of Orcus. Which means they are also under my control.’ He pointed to Reyna. ‘Seize the girl.’

The spartoi surged forward. Aurum and Argentum took down the first few, but they were quickly wrestled to the ground, skeletal hands clamped over their muzzles. The redcoats grabbed Reyna’s arms. For undead creatures, they were surprisingly quick.

Finally, Nico came to his senses. He slashed at the spartoi, but his sword passed harmlessly through them. He exerted his will, ordering the skeletons to dissolve. They acted as if he didn’t exist.

‘What’s wrong, son of Hades?’ Bryce’s voice was filled with fake sympathy. ‘Losing your grip?’

Nico tried to push his way through the skeletons. There were too many. Bryce, Reyna and CoachHedge might as well have been behind a metal wall.

‘Nico, get out of here!’ Reyna said. ‘Get to the statue and leave.’

‘Yes, off you go!’ Bryce agreed. ‘Of course, you realize that your next shadow-jump will be your last. You know you don’t have the strength to survive another. But, by all means, take the Athena Parthenos.’

Nico glanced down. He still held his Stygian sword, but his hands were dark and transparent like smoky glass. Even in the direct sunlight, he was dissolving.

‘Stop this!’ he said.

‘Oh, I’m not doing a thing,’ Bryce said. ‘But I am curious to see what will happen. If you take the statue, you’ll disappear with it forever, right into oblivion. If you don’t take it … well, I have orders to bring Reyna in alive to stand trial for treason. I have no orders to bring you in alive, or the faun.’

‘Satyr!’ the coach yelled. He kicked a skeleton in its bony crotch, which seemed to hurt Hedge more than the redcoat. ‘Ow! Stupid British dead guys!’

Bryce lowered his javelin and poked the coach in the belly. ‘I wonder what this one’s pain tolerance would be. I’ve experimented on all kinds of animals. I even killed my own centurion once. I’ve never tried a faun … excuse me, a satyr. You reincarnate, don’t you? How much pain can you take before you turn into a patch of daisies?’

Nico’s anger turned as cold and dark as his blade. He’d been morphed into a few plants himself, and he didn’t appreciate it. He hated people like Bryce Lawrence, who inflicted pain just for fun.

‘Leave him alone,’ Nico warned.

Bryce raised an eyebrow. ‘Or what? By all means, try something Underworldy, Nico. I’d love to see it. I have a feeling anything major will make you fade out permanently. Go ahead.’

Reyna struggled. ‘Bryce, forget about them. If you want me as your prisoner, fine. I’ll go willingly and face Octavian’s stupid trial.’

‘A fine offer.’ Bryce turned his javelin, letting the tip hover a few inches from Reyna’s eyes. ‘You really don’t know what Octavian has planned, do you? He’s been busy pulling in favours, spending the legion’s money.’

Reyna clenched her fists. ‘Octavian has no right –’

‘He has the right of power,’ Bryce said. ‘You forfeited your authority when you ran off to the ancient lands. On August first, your Greek friends at Camp Half-Blood will find out what a powerful enemy Octavian is. I’ve seen the designs for his machines … Even I’m impressed.’

Nico’s bones felt like they were changing into helium, the way they’d felt when the god Favonius turned him into a breeze.

Then he locked eyes with Reyna. Her strength surged through him – a wave of courage and resilience that made him feel substantial again, anchored to the mortal world. Even surrounded by the dead and facing execution, Reyna Ramírez-Arellano had a huge reservoir of bravery to share.

‘Nico,’ she said, ‘do what you need to do. I’ve got your back.’

Bryce chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. ‘Oh, Reyna. You’ve got his back? It’s going to be so fun dragging you before a tribunal, forcing you to confess that you killed your father. I hope they’ll execute you in the ancient way – sewn into a sack with a rabid dog, then thrown into a river. I’ve always wanted to see that. I can’t wait until your little secret comes out.’

Until your little secret comes out.

Bryce flicked the point of his pilum across Reyna’s face, leaving a line of blood.

And Nico’s rage exploded.


	9. Blood of Olympus part 2

Later, they told him what happened. All he remembered was the screaming.

According to Reyna, the air around him dropped to freezing. The ground blackened. In one horrible  cry, he unleashed a flood of pain and anger on everyone in the clearing. Reyna and the coach  experienced his journey through Tartarus, his capture by the giants, his days wasting away inside that  bronze jar. They felt Nico’s anguish from his days on the Argo II and his encounter with Cupid in the  ruins of Salona.

They heard his unspoken challenge to Bryce Lawrence, loud and clear: You want secrets? Here.

The spartoi disintegrated into ashes. The rocks of the cairn turned white with frost. Bryce  Lawrence stumbled, clutching his head, both nostrils bleeding.

Nico marched towards him. He grabbed Bryce’s probatio tablet and ripped it off his neck.

‘You aren’t worthy of this,’ Nico growled.

The earth split under Bryce’s feet. He sank up to his waist. ‘Stop!’ Bryce clawed at the ground and  the plastic bouquets, but his body kept sinking.

‘You took an oath to the legion.’ Nico’s breath steamed in the cold. ‘You broke its rules. You  inflicted pain. You killed your own centurion.’

‘I – I didn’t! I –’

‘You should’ve died for your crimes,’ Nico continued. ‘That was the punishment. Instead you got  exile. You should have stayed away. Your father Orcus may not approve of broken oaths. But my  father Hades really doesn’t approve of those who escape punishment.’

‘Please!’

That word didn’t make sense to Nico. The Underworld had no mercy. It only had justice.

‘You’re already dead,’ Nico said. ‘You’re a ghost with no tongue, no memory. You won’t be  sharing any secrets.’

‘No!’ Bryce’s body turned dark and smoky. He slipped into the earth, up to his chest. ‘No, I am  Bryce Lawrence! I’m alive!’

‘Who are you?’ Nico asked.

The next sound from Bryce’s mouth was a chattering whisper. His face became indistinct. He could have been anyone – just another nameless spirit among millions.

‘Begone,’ Nico said.

The spirit dissipated. The earth closed.

Nico looked back and saw that his friends were safe. Reyna and the coach stared at him in horror.  Reyna’s face was bleeding. Aurum and Argentum turned in circles, as if their mechanical brains had  short-circuited.

Nico collapsed.

His dreams made no sense, which was almost a relief.

A flock of ravens circled in a dark sky. Then the ravens turned into horses galloping through the  surf.  He saw his sister Bianca sitting in the dining pavilion at Camp Half-Blood with the Hunters of  Artemis. She smiled and laughed with her new group of friends. Then Bianca changed into Hazel,  who kissed Nico on the cheek and said, ‘I want you to be an exception.’

He saw the harpy Ella with her shaggy red hair and red feathers, her eyes like dark coffee. She  perched on the couch of the Big House’s living room. Propped next to her was the magical stuffed  leopard head Seymour. Ella rocked back and forth, feeding the leopard Cheetos.

‘Cheese is not good for harpies,’ she muttered. Then she scrunched up her face and chanted one of  her memorized lines of prophecy: ‘The fall of the sun, the final verse.’ She fed Seymour more  Cheetos. ‘Cheese is good for leopard heads.’

Seymour roared in agreement.

Ella changed into a dark-haired, extremely pregnant cloud nymph, writhing in pain on a camp bunk  bed. Clarisse La Rue sat next to her, wiping the nymph’s head with a cool cloth. ‘Mellie, you’ll be  fine,’ Clarisse said, though she sounded worried.

‘No, nothing is fine!’ Mellie wailed. ‘Gaia is rising!’

The scene shifted. Nico stood with Hades in the Berkeley Hills on the day Hades first led him to  Camp Jupiter. ‘Go to them,’ said the god. ‘Introduce yourself as a child of Pluto. It is important you  make this connection.’

‘Why?’ Nico asked.

Hades dissolved. Nico found himself back in Tartarus, standing before Akhlys, the goddess of

misery. Blood streaked her cheeks. Tears streamed from her eyes, dripped on the shield of Hercules  in her lap. ‘Child of Hades, what more could I do to you? You are perfect! So much sorrow and  pain!’

Nico gasped.

His eyes flew open.

He was flat on his back, staring at the sunlight in the tree branches.

‘Thank the gods.’ Reyna leaned over him, her hand cool on his forehead. The bleeding cut on her  face was completely gone.

Next to her, Coach Hedge scowled. Sadly, Nico had a great view right up his nostrils.

‘Good,’ said the coach. ‘Just a few more applications.’

He held up a large square bandage coated with sticky brown gunk and plastered it over Nico’s  nose.

‘What is … ? Ugh.’

The gunk smelled like potting soil, cedar chips, grape juice and just a hint of fertilizer. Nico didn’t  have the strength to remove it.  His senses started to work again. He realized he was lying on a sleeping bag outside the tent. He  was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts and a thousand gross, brown-plastered bandages all over  his body. His arms, legs and chest were itchy from the drying mud.

‘Are – are you trying to plant me?’ he murmured.

‘It’s sports medicine with a little nature magic,’ said the coach. ‘Kind of a hobby of mine.’

Nico tried to focus on Reyna’s face. ‘You approved this?’

She looked like she was about to pass out from exhaustion, but she managed a smile. ‘Coach Hedge  brought you back from the brink. The unicorn draught, ambrosia, nectar … we couldn’t use any of it.  You were fading so badly.’

‘Fading … ?’

‘Don’t worry about that now, kid.’ Hedge put a drinking straw next to Nico’s mouth. ‘Have some  Gatorade.’

‘I – I don’t want –’

‘You’ll have some Gatorade,’ the coach insisted.

Nico had some Gatorade. He was surprised at how thirsty he was.

‘What happened to me?’ he asked. ‘To Bryce … to those skeletons … ?’

Reyna and the coach exchanged an uneasy look.

‘There’s good news and bad news,’ Reyna said. ‘But first eat something. You’ll need your strength  back before you hear the bad news.’

'Three days?'

Nico wasn’t sure he’d heard her right the first dozen times.

‘We couldn’t move you,’ Reyna said. ‘I mean … literally, you couldn’t be moved. You had almost no substance. If it weren’t for Coach Hedge –’

‘No biggie,’ the coach assured him. ‘One time in the middle of a play-off game I had to splint a quarterback’s leg with nothing but tree branches and strapping tape.’

Despite his nonchalance, the satyr had bags under his eyes. His cheeks were sunken. He looked almost as bad as Nico felt.

Nico couldn’t believe he’d been unconscious for so long. He recounted his weird dreams – the mutterings of Ella the harpy, the glimpse of Mellie the cloud nymph (which worried the coach) – but Nico felt as if those visions had lasted only seconds. According to Reyna, it was the afternoon of 30 July. He’d been in a shadow coma for days.

‘The Romans will attack Camp Half-Blood the day after tomorrow.’ Nico sipped more Gatorade, which was nice and cold, but without flavour. His taste buds seemed to have phased into the shadow world permanently. ‘We have to hurry. I have to get ready.’

‘No.’ Reyna pressed her hand against his forearm, making the bandages crinkle. ‘Any more shadow-travel would kill you.’

He gritted his teeth. ‘If it kills me, it kills me. We have to get the statue to Camp Half-Blood.’

‘Hey, kid,’ said the coach, ‘I appreciate your dedication, but, if you zap us all into eternal darkness along with the Athena Parthenos, it’s not going to help anybody. Bryce Lawrence was right about that.’

At the mention of Bryce, Reyna’s metallic dogs pricked up their ears and snarled.

Reyna stared at the cairn of rocks, her eyes full of torment, as if more unwelcome spirits might emerge from the grave.

Nico took a breath, getting a nose full of Hedge’s fragrant home remedy. ‘Reyna, I … I didn’t think. What I did to Bryce –’

‘You destroyed him,’ Reyna said. ‘You turned him into a ghost. And, yes, it reminded me of what happened to my father.’

‘I didn’t mean to scare you,’ Nico said bitterly. ‘I didn’t mean to … to poison another friendship. I’m sorry.’

Reyna studied his face. ‘Nico, I have to admit, the first day you were unconscious, I didn’t know what to think or feel. What you did was hard to watch … hard to process.’

Coach Hedge chewed on a stick. ‘I gotta agree with the girl on this one, kid. Smashing somebody’s head in with a baseball bat, that’s one thing. But ghostifying that creep? That was some dark stuff.’

Nico expected to feel angry – to shout at them for trying to judge him. That’s what he normally did. But his anger wouldn’t materialize. He still felt plenty of rage towards Bryce Lawrence, and Gaia and the giants. He wanted to find the augur Octavian and strangle him with his chain belt. But he wasn’t mad at Reyna or the coach.

‘Why did you bring me back?’ he asked. ‘You knew I couldn’t help you any more. You should’ve found another way to keep going with the statue. But you wasted three days watching over me. Why?’

Coach Hedge snorted. ‘You’re part of the team, you idiot. We’re not going to leave you behind.’

‘It’s more than that.’ Reyna rested her hand on Nico’s. ‘While you were asleep, I did a lot of thinking. What I told you about my father … I’d never shared that with anyone. I guess I knew you were the right person to confide in. You lifted some of my burden. I trust you, Nico.’

Nico stared at her, mystified. ‘How can you trust me? You both felt my anger, saw my worst feelings …’

‘Hey, kid,’ said Coach Hedge, his tone softer. ‘We all get angry. Even a sweetheart like me.’

Reyna smirked. She squeezed Nico’s hand. ‘Coach is right, Nico. You’re not the only one who lets out the darkness once in a while. I told you what happened with my dad, and you supported me. You shared your painful experiences; how can we not support you? We’re friends.’

Nico wasn’t sure what to say. They’d seen his deepest secrets. They knew who he was, what he was.

But they didn’t seem to care. No … they cared more.

They weren’t judging him. They were concerned. None of it made sense to him.

‘But Bryce. I …’ Nico couldn’t continue.

‘You did what had to be done. I see that now,’ Reyna said. ‘Just promise me: no more turning people into ghosts if we can avoid it.’

‘Yeah,’ Coach said. ‘Unless you let me whale on them first. Besides, it’s not all bad news.’

Reyna nodded. ‘We’ve seen no sign of other Romans, so it appears Bryce didn’t notify anyone else where he was. Also, no sign of Orion. Hopefully that means he was taken down by the Hunters.’

‘And Hylla?’ Nico asked. ‘Thalia?’

The lines tightened around Reyna’s mouth. ‘No word. But I have to believe they’re still alive.’

‘You didn’t tell him the best news,’ the coach prompted.

Reyna frowned. ‘Maybe because it’s so hard to believe. Coach Hedge thinks he’s found another way to transport the statue. It’s all he’s talked about for the past three days. But so far we’ve seen no sign of –’

‘Hey, it’ll happen!’ Coach grinned at Nico. ‘You remember that paper aeroplane I got right before Creepmeister Lawrence showed up? It was a message from one of Mellie’s contacts in the palace of Aeolus. This harpy, Nuggets – she and Mellie go way back. Anyway … she knows a guy who knows a guy who knows a horse who knows a goat who knows another horse –’

‘Coach,’ Reyna chided, ‘you’ll make him sorry he came out of his coma.’

‘Fine,’ the satyr huffed. ‘Long story short, I pulled in a lot of favours. I got word to the right wind- type spirits that we needed help. The letter I ate? Confirmation that the cavalry is coming. They said it would take a while to organize, but he should be here soon – any minute, in fact.’

‘Who’s he?’ Nico asked. ‘What cavalry?’

Reyna stood abruptly. She stared towards the north, her face slack with awe. ‘That cavalry …’

Nico followed her gaze. A flock of birds was approaching – large birds.

They got closer, and Nico realized they were horses with wings – at least half a dozen in V formation, without riders.

Flying on point was a massive stallion with a golden coat and multicoloured plumage like an eagle’s, his wingspan twice as wide as the other horses’.

‘Pegasi,’ Nico said. ‘You summoned enough to carry the statue.’

Coach laughed with delight. ‘Not just any pegasi, kid. You’re in for a real treat.’

‘The stallion in front …’ Reyna shook her head in disbelief. ‘That’s the Pegasus, the immortal lord of horses.’

Hazel made a strangled sound. ‘You mean Nico? Is he all right?’

‘All right?’ Apollo sobbed over his ukulele. ‘None of us are all right, girl! Gaia is rising!’

Artemis glared at Apollo. ‘Hazel Levesque, your brother is still alive. He is a brave fighter, like you. I wish I could say the same for my brother.’

‘What are those?’ Nico called.

He flew about twenty feet to her left on the dark pegasus Blackjack.

‘Siege weapons,’ Reyna said. ‘If we get any closer, they can shoot us out of the sky.’

‘From this high up?’

On her right, Coach Hedge shouted from the back of his steed, Guido, ‘Those are onagers, kid! Those things can kick higher than Bruce Lee!’

‘There.’ Nico pointed towards Long Island Sound, where the lights of a large yacht gleamed a quarter of a mile offshore. ‘We could land on the deck of that ship. The Greeks control the sea.’

Reyna wasn’t sure the Greeks would be any friendlier than the Romans, but Pegasus seemed to like the idea. He banked towards the dark waters of the Sound.

The ship was a white pleasure craft a hundred feet long, with sleek lines and dark tinted portals. Painted on the bow in red letters was the name MI AMOR. On the forward deck was a helipad big enough for the Athena Parthenos.

Reyna saw no crew. She guessed the ship was a regular mortal vessel anchored for the night, but if she was wrong and the ship was a trap …

‘It’s our best shot,’ Nico said. ‘The horses are tired. We need to set down.’

She nodded reluctantly. ‘Let’s do it.’

‘Coach?’ Nico frowned with concern. ‘What did Pegasus say?’

‘He – he says he didn’t come to us in person because of my message.’ Hedge turned to Reyna. ‘He did it because of you. He experiences the feelings of all winged horses. He followed your friendship with Scipio. Pegasus says he’s never been more touched by a demigod’s compassion for a winged horse. He gives you the title Horse Friend. This is a great honour.’

Reyna’s eyes stung. She bowed her head. ‘Thank you, lord.’

Pegasus pawed the deck. The other winged horses whinnied in salute. Then their sire launched himself upward and spiralled into the night.

Hedge stared at the clouds in amazement. ‘Pegasus hasn’t shown himself in hundreds of years.’ He patted Reyna on the back. ‘You did good, Roman.’

Reyna didn’t feel like she deserved credit for putting Scipio through so much suffering, but she forced down her feelings of guilt.

‘Nico, we should check the ship,’ she said. ‘If there’s anyone aboard –’

‘Way ahead of you.’ He stroked Blackjack’s muzzle. ‘I sense two mortals asleep in the main cabin. Nobody else. I’m no child of Hypnos, but I’ve sent some deep dreams their way. Should be enough to keep them snoozing until well after sunrise.’

Reyna tried not to stare at him. In the last few days he’d become so much stronger. Hedge’s nature magic had brought him back from the brink. She’d seen Nico do some impressive things, but manipulating dreams … had he always been able to do that?

‘The legion has sent a welcoming committee.’

Nico followed her gaze. ‘I thought the Romans didn’t have a navy.’

‘We didn’t,’ she said. ‘Apparently Octavian has been busier than I realized.’

‘So we attack!’ Hedge said. ‘ ’Cause nobody’s standing in my way when I’m this close.’

Reyna counted three people in the speedboat. The two in the back wore helmets, but Reyna recognized the driver’s wedge-shaped face and stocky shoulders: Michael Kahale.

‘We’ll try to parlay,’ Reyna decided. ‘That’s one of Octavian’s right-hand men, but he’s a good legionnaire. I may be able to reason with him.’

The wind swept Nico’s dark hair across his face. ‘But if you’re wrong …’

The black boat slowed and pulled alongside. Michael called up: ‘Reyna! I’ve got orders to arrest you and confiscate that statue. I’m coming aboard with two other centurions. I’d prefer to do this without bloodshed.’

Reyna tried to control her trembling legs. ‘Come aboard, Michael!’

She turned to Nico and Coach Hedge. ‘If I’m wrong, be ready. Michael Kahale won’t be easy to fight.’

His eyes glittered darkly as he took in the scene – the Athena Parthenos harnessed to its team of pegasi, Nico with his Stygian sword drawn, Coach Hedge with his baseball bat.

Nico stepped in. ‘You’d wipe out half the demigods in the world, half the gods’ legacy, to heal them? You’ll tear apart Olympus before Gaia even wakes up. And she is waking, Centurion.’

Michael scowled. ‘Ambassador of Pluto, son of Hades … whatever you call yourself, you’ve been named an enemy spy. I’ve got orders to take you in for execution.’

‘You can try,’ Nico said coldly.

The face-off was so absurd it should have been humorous. Nico was several years younger, half a foot shorter and fifty pounds lighter. But Michael didn’t make a move. The veins in his neck pulsed.

Dakota coughed. ‘Um, Reyna … just come with us peacefully. Please. We can work this out.’ He was definitely winking at her.

Reyna glanced at Nico. Obviously, something was wrong. She couldn’t think of any reason Octavian would be here, putting himself in harm’s way. He definitely wouldn’t order his own officers to get rid of their weapons. But Reyna’s instincts told her to play along. She dropped her blade. Nico did the same.

‘Friends!’ boomed Tyson the Cyclops. He scooped up Reyna in one arm and Hedge and Nico in the other. ‘We have come to save you. Hooray for us!’

Nico laughed bitterly. ‘A little late for doubts. You’re surrounded. As soon as Camp Half-Blood is destroyed, those allies will turn on you.’

‘He is my fish pony friend.’

‘A hippocampus,’ Nico advised.

Reyna turned to Nico. ‘I need you to go with Dakota and Leila. While they’re stirring trouble in the ranks, trying to delay the attack, you have to find a way to sabotage those onagers.’

Nico’s smile made Reyna glad he was on her side. ‘My pleasure. We’ll buy you time to deliver the Athena Parthenos.’

Nico sheathed his black sword. ‘You sure about this, Reyna? I don’t like leaving you alone.’

Blackjack whinnied and licked the side of Nico’s face.

‘Gah! Okay, I’m sorry.’ Nico wiped off the horse spit. ‘Reyna’s not alone. She’s got a herd of excellent pegasi.’

Reyna couldn’t help but smile. ‘I’ll be fine. With luck, we’ll all meet again soon enough. We’ll fight side by side against Gaia’s forces. Be careful, and Ave Romae!’

Dakota and Leila repeated the cheer.

Tyson furrowed his single eyebrow. ‘Who is Ave?’

‘It means Go, Romans.’ Reyna clapped the Cyclops’s forearm. ‘But, by all means, Go, Greeks, too.’ The words sounded strange in her mouth.

She faced Nico. She wanted to hug him but wasn’t sure the gesture would be welcome. She extended her hand. ‘It’s been an honour questing with you, son of Hades.’

Nico’s grip was strong. ‘You’re the most courageous demigod I’ve ever met, Reyna. I –’ He faltered, perhaps realizing he had a large audience. ‘I won’t let you down. See you on Half-Blood Hill.’

The sky began to lighten in the east as the group dispersed. Soon Reyna stood on the deck of the Mi Amor … alone except for eight pegasi and a forty-foot-tall Athena.

She tried to steady her nerves. Until Nico, Dakota and Leila had time to disrupt the legion’s attack, she couldn’t do anything, but she hated standing around and waiting.

He bumped her affectionately. Nico had told her that Blackjack was Percy’s usual ride, but he seemed friendly to everyone. He’d carried the son of Hades without protest. Now he was comforting a Roman.

Through Reyna’s haze of rage and grief, she noticed the giant’s new scars. His fight with the Hunters had left him with mottled grey and pink scar tissue on his arms and face, so he looked like a bruised peach in the process of rotting. The mechanical eye on his left side was dark. His hair had burned away, leaving only ragged patches. His nose was swollen and red from the bowstring that Nico had snapped in his face. All of this gave Reyna a twinge of dark satisfaction.

Perhaps Octavian had come to his senses. Perhaps Nico and the others had managed to win over the legion.

Then an orange glow illuminated the hilltops. Multiple streaks of fire climbed skyward like burning fingers.

The onagers had shot their first volley.

About five miles east of camp, a black SUV was parked on the beach.

They tied up the boat at a private dock. Nico helped Dakota and Leila haul Michael Kahale ashore. The big guy was still only half-conscious, mumbling what Nico assumed were football calls: ‘Red twelve. Right thirty-one. Hike.’ Then he giggled uncontrollably.

‘We’ll leave him here,’ Leila said. ‘Just don’t bind him. Poor guy …’

‘What about the car?’ Dakota asked. ‘The keys are in the glove compartment, but, uh, can you drive?’

Leila frowned. ‘I thought you could drive. Aren’t you seventeen?’

‘I never learned!’ Dakota said. ‘I was busy.’

‘I’ve got it covered,’ Nico promised.

They both looked at him.

‘You’re, like, fourteen,’ Leila said.

Nico enjoyed how nervous the Romans acted around him, even though they were older and bigger and more experienced fighters. ‘I didn’t say I would be behind the wheel.’

He knelt and placed his hand on the ground. He felt the nearest graves, the bones of forgotten humans buried and scattered. He searched deeper, extending his senses into the Underworld. ‘Jules Albert. Let’s go.’

The ground split. A zombie in a ragged nineteenth-century motoring outfit clawed his way to the surface. Leila stepped back. Dakota screamed like a kindergartner.

‘What is that, man?’ Dakota protested.

‘This is my driver,’ Nico said. ‘Jules-Albert finished first in the Paris–Rouen motorcar race back in 1895, but he wasn’t awarded the prize because his steam car used a stoker.’

Leila stared at him. ‘What are you even talking about?’

‘He’s a restless soul, always looking for another chance to drive,’ Nico said. ‘The last few years, he’s been my driver whenever I need one.’

‘You have a zombie chauffeur,’ Leila said.

‘I call shotgun.’ Nico got in on the passenger’s side. Reluctantly, the Romans climbed in the back.

One thing about Jules-Albert: he never got emotional. He could sit in crosstown traffic all day without losing his patience. He was immune to road rage. He could even drive straight up to an encampment of wild centaurs and navigate through them without getting nervous.

The centaurs were like nothing Nico had ever seen. They had back ends like palominos, tattoos all over their hairy arms and chests, and bullish horns protruding from their foreheads. Nico doubted they could blend in with humans as easily as Chiron did. At least two hundred were sparring restlessly with swords and spears, or roasting animal  
carcasses over open fires (carnivorous centaurs … the idea made Nico shudder). Their camp spilled across the farm road that meandered around Camp Half-Blood’s southeast perimeter.

The SUV nudged its way through, honking when necessary. Occasionally a centaur glared through the driver’s side window, saw the zombie driver and backed away in shock.

‘Pluto’s pauldrons,’ Dakota muttered. ‘Even more centaurs arrived overnight.’

‘Don’t make eye contact,’ Leila warned. ‘They take that as a challenge for a duel to the death.’

Nico stared straight ahead as the SUV pushed through. His heart was pounding, but he wasn’t scared. He was angry. Octavian had surrounded Camp Half-Blood with monsters.

Sure, Nico had mixed emotions about the camp. He’d felt rejected there, out of place, unwanted and unloved … but now that it was on the verge of destruction, he realized how much it meant to him. This was the last place Bianca and he had shared as a home – the only place they’d ever felt safe, even if only temporarily.

They rounded a bend in the road and Nico’s fists clenched. More monsters … hundreds more. Dog-headed men prowled in packs, their poleaxes gleaming in the light of campfires. Beyond that milled a tribe of two-headed men dressed in rags and blankets like homeless guys, armed with a haphazard collection of slings, clubs and metal pipes.

‘Octavian is an idiot,’ Nico hissed. ‘He thinks he can control these creatures?’

‘They just kept showing up,’ Leila said. ‘Before we knew it … well, look.’

The legion was arrayed at the base of Half-Blood Hill, its five cohorts in perfect order, its standards bright and proud. Giant eagles circled overhead. The siege weapons – six golden onagers the size of houses – were arrayed behind in a loose semicircle, three on each flank. But, for all its impressive discipline, the Twelfth Legion looked pitifully small, a splotch of demigod valour in a sea of ravenous monsters.

Nico wished he still had the sceptre of Diocletian, but he doubted a legion of dead warriors would make a dent in this army. Even the Argo II couldn’t do much against this kind of strength.

‘I have to disable the onagers,’ Nico said. ‘We don’t have much time.’

‘You’ll never get close to them,’ Leila warned. ‘Even if we get the entire Fourth and Fifth Cohorts to follow us, the other cohorts will try to stop us. And those siege weapons are manned by Octavian’s most loyal followers.’

‘We won’t get close by force,’ Nico agreed. ‘But alone I can do it. Dakota, Leila – Jules-Albert will drive you to the legion lines. Get out, talk to your troops, convince them to follow your lead. I’ll need a distraction.’

Dakota frowned. ‘All right, but I’m not hurting any of my fellow legionnaires.’

‘No one’s asking you to,’ Nico growled. ‘But if we don’t stop this war the entire legion will be wiped out. You said the monster tribes take insult easily?’

‘Yes,’ Dakota said. ‘I mean, for instance, you make any comment to those two-headed guys about the way they smell and … oh.’ He grinned. ‘If we started a brawl, by accident of course …’

‘I’ll be counting on you,’ Nico said.

Leila frowned. ‘But how will you –’

‘I’m going dark,’ Nico said. And he faded into the shadows.

He thought he was prepared.

He wasn’t.

Even after three days of rest and the wondrous healing properties of Coach Hedge’s gooey brown gunk, Nico started to dissolve the moment he shadow-jumped. His limbs turned to vapour. Cold seeped into his chest. Voices of spirits whispered in his ears: Help us. Remember us. Join us.

He hadn’t realized how much he had relied on Reyna. Without her strength, he felt as weak as a newborn colt, wobbling dangerously, ready to fall at every step.

No, he told himself. I am Nico di Angelo, son of Hades. I control the shadows. They do not control me.

He stumbled back into the mortal world at the crest of Half-Blood Hill.

He fell to his knees, hugging Thalia’s pine tree for support. The Golden Fleece was no longer in its branches. The guardian dragon was gone. Perhaps they’d been moved to a safer spot with the battle so close. Nico wasn’t sure. But, looking down at the Roman forces arrayed outside the valley, his spirits wavered.

The nearest onager was a hundred yards downhill, encircled in spiked trenches and guarded by a dozen demigods. The machine was primed, ready to fire. Its huge sling cupped a projectile the size of a Honda Civic, glowing with flecks of gold.

With icy certainty, Nico realized what Octavian was up to. The projectile was a mixture of incendiaries and Imperial gold. Even a small amount of Imperial gold could be incredibly volatile. Exposed to too much heat or pressure, the stuff would explode with devastating impact, and of course it was deadly to demigods as well as monsters. If that onager scored a hit on Camp Half-Blood, anything in the blast zone would be annihilated – vaporized by the heat, or disintegrated by the shrapnel. And the Romans had six onagers, all stocked with piles of ammunition.

‘Evil,’ Nico said. ‘This is evil.’

He tried to think. Dawn was breaking. He couldn’t possibly take down all six weapons before the attack began, even if he found the strength to shadow-travel that many times. If he managed it once more, it would be a miracle.

He spotted the Roman command tent – behind and to the left of the legion. Octavian would probably be there, enjoying breakfast at a safe distance from the fighting. He wouldn’t lead his troops into battle. The little scumbag would hope to destroy the Greek camp from a distance, wait for the flames to die down, then march in unopposed.

Nico’s throat constricted with hate. He concentrated on that tent, envisioning his next jump. If he could assassinate Octavian, that might solve the problem. The order to attack might never be given.

Nico was about to attempt it when a voice behind him said, ‘Nico?’

He spun, his sword instantly in his hand, and almost decapitated Will Solace.

‘Put that down!’ Will hissed. ‘What are you doing here?’

Nico was dumbstruck. Will and two other campers were crouched in the grass, binoculars around their necks and daggers at their side. They wore black jeans and T-shirts, with black grease paint on their faces like commandos.

‘Me?’ Nico asked. ‘What are you doing? Getting yourselves killed?’

Will scowled. ‘Hey, we’re scouting the enemy. We took precautions.’

‘You dressed in black,’ Nico noted, ‘with the sun coming up. You painted your face but didn’t cover that mop of blond hair. You might as well be waving a yellow flag.’

Will’s ears reddened. ‘Lou Ellen wrapped some Mist around us, too.’

‘Hi.’ The girl next to him wriggled her fingers. She looked a little flustered. ‘You’re Nico, right? I’ve heard a lot about you. And this is Cecil from Hermes cabin.’

Nico knelt next to them. ‘Did Coach Hedge make it to camp?’

Lou Ellen giggled nervously. ‘Did he ever.’

Will elbowed her. ‘Yeah. Hedge is fine. He made it just in time for the baby’s birth.’

‘The baby!’ Nico grinned, which hurt his face muscles. He wasn’t used to making that expression. ‘Mellie and the kid are all right?’

‘Fine. A very cute little satyr boy.’ Will shuddered. ‘But I delivered it. Have you ever delivered a baby?’

‘Um, no.’

‘I had to get some fresh air. That’s why I volunteered for this mission. Gods of Olympus, my hands are still shaking. See?’

He took Nico’s hand, which sent an electric current down Nico’s spine. He quickly withdrew.

‘Whatever,’ he snapped. ‘We don’t have time for chitchat. The Romans are attacking at dawn and I’ve got to –’

‘We know,’ Will said. ‘But, if you’re planning to shadow-travel to that command tent, forget it.’

Nico glared at him. ‘Excuse me?’

He expected Will to flinch or look away. Most people did. But Will’s blue eyes stayed fixed on his– annoyingly determined. ‘Coach Hedge told me all about your shadow-travel. You can’t try that again.’

‘I just did try it again, Solace. I’m fine.’

‘No, you’re not. I’m a healer. I could feel the darkness in your hand as soon as I touched it. Even if you made it to that tent, you’d be in no shape to fight. But you wouldn’t make it. One more slip, and you won’t come back. You are not shadow-travelling. Doctor’s orders.’

‘The camp is about to be destroyed –’

‘And we’ll stop the Romans,’ Will said. ‘But we’ll do it our way. Lou Ellen will control the Mist. We’ll sneak around, do as much damage as we can to those onagers. But no shadow-travel.’

‘But –’

‘No.’

Lou Ellen’s and Cecil’s heads swivelled back and forth like they were watching a really intense tennis match.

Nico sighed in exasperation. He hated working with other people. They were always cramping his style, making him uncomfortable. And Will Solace … Nico revised his impression of the son of Apollo. He’d always thought of Will as easygoing and laid back. Apparently he could also be stubborn and aggravating.

Nico gazed down at Camp Half-Blood, where the rest of the Greeks were preparing for war. Past the troops and ballistae, the canoe lake glittered pink in the first light of dawn. Nico remembered the first time he’d arrived at Camp Half-Blood, crash-landing in Apollo’s sun car, which had been converted into a fiery school bus.

He remembered Apollo, smiling and tanned and completely cool in his shades.

Thalia had said, He’s hot.

He’s the sun god, Percy replied.

That’s not what I meant.

Why was Nico thinking about that now? The random memory irritated him, made him feel jittery. He had arrived at Camp Half-Blood thanks to Apollo. Now, on what would likely be his last day at camp, he was stuck with a son of Apollo.

‘Whatever,’ Nico said. ‘But we have to hurry. And you’ll follow my lead.’

‘Fine,’ Will said. ‘Just don’t ask me to deliver any more satyr babies and we’ll get along great.’

They made it t the first onager just as chaos broke loose in the legion.

On the far end of the line, cries went up from the Fifth Cohort. Legionnaires scattered and dropped their pila. A dozen centaurs barrelled through the ranks, yelling and waving their clubs, followed by a horde of two-headed men banging on trash-can lids.

‘What’s going on down there?’ Lou Ellen asked.

‘That’s my distraction,’ Nico said. ‘Come on.’

All the guards had clustered on the right side of the onager, trying to see what was going on down the ranks, which gave Nico and his comrades a clear shot to the left. They passed within a few feet of the nearest Roman, but the legionnaire didn’t notice them. Lou Ellen’s Mist magic seemed to be working.

They jumped the spiked trench and reached the machine.

‘I brought some Greek fire,’ Cecil whispered.

‘No,’ Nico said. ‘If we make the damage too obvious, we’ll never get to the other ones in time. Can you recalibrate the aim – like, towards the other onagers’ firing lines?’

Cecil grinned. ‘Oh, I like the way you think. They sent me because I excel at messing things up.’

He went to work while Nico and the others stood guard.

Meanwhile the Fifth Cohort was brawling with the two-headed men. The Fourth Cohort moved in to help. The other three cohorts held their positions, but the officers were having trouble keeping order.

‘All right,’ Cecil announced. ‘Let’s move.’

They shuffled across the hillside towards the next onager.

This time the Mist didn’t work so well. One of the onager guards yelled, ‘Hey!’

‘Got this.’ Will sprinted off – which was possibly the stupidest diversion Nico could imagine – and six of the guards chased after him.

The other Romans advanced on Nico, but Lou Ellen appeared out of the Mist and yelled, ‘Hey, catch!’

She lobbed a white ball the size of an apple. The Roman in the middle caught it instinctively. A twenty-foot sphere of powder exploded outwards. When the dust settled, all six Romans were squealing pink piglets.

‘Nice work,’ Nico said.

Lou Ellen blushed. ‘Well, it’s the only pig ball I have. So don’t ask for an encore.’

‘And, uh –’ Cecil pointed – ‘somebody better help Will.’

Even in their armour, the Romans were starting to gain on Solace. Nico cursed and raced after them.

He didn’t want to kill other demigods if he could avoid it. Fortunately, he didn’t need to. He tripped the Roman in the back and the others turned. Nico jumped into the crowd, kicking groins, smacking faces with the flat of his blade, bashing helmets with his pommel. In ten seconds, the Romans all lay groaning and dazed on the ground.

Will punched his shoulder. ‘Thanks for the assist. Six at once isn’t bad.’

‘Not bad?’ Nico glared at him. ‘Next time I’ll just let them run you down, Solace.’

‘Ah, they’d never catch me.’

Cecil waved at them from the onager, signalling that his job was done.

They all moved towards the third siege machine.

In the legion ranks, everything was still in chaos, but the officers were starting to reassert control. The Fifth and Fourth Cohorts regrouped while the Second and Third acted as riot police, shovingcentaurs and cynocephali and two-headed men back into their respective camps. The First Cohort stood closest to the onager – a little too close for Nico’s comfort – but they seemed occupied by a couple of officers parading in front of them, shouting orders.

Nico hoped they could sneak up on the third siege machine. One more onager redirected and they might stand a chance.

Unfortunately, the guards spotted them from twenty yards away. One yelled, ‘There!’

Lou Ellen cursed. ‘They’re expecting an attack now. The Mist doesn’t work well against alert enemies. Do we run?’

‘No,’ Nico said. ‘Let’s give them what they expect.’

He spread his hands. In front of the Romans, the ground erupted. Five skeletons clawed out of the earth. Cecil and Lou Ellen charged in to help. Nico tried to follow, but he would’ve fallen on his face if Will hadn’t caught him.

‘You idiot.’ Will put an arm around him. ‘I told you no more of that Underworld magic.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Shut up. You’re not.’ From his pocket, Will dug out a pack of gum.

Nico wanted to pull away. He hated physical contact. But Will was a lot stronger than he looked. Nico found himself leaning against him, relying on his support.

‘Take this,’ Will said.

‘You want me to chew gum?’

‘It’s medicinal. Should keep you alive and alert for a few more hours.’

Nico shoved a stick of gum into his mouth. ‘Tastes like tar and mud.’

‘Stop complaining.’

‘Hey.’ Cecil limped over, looking like he’d pulled a muscle. ‘You guys kind of missed the fight.’ Lou Ellen followed, grinning. Behind them, all the Roman guards were tangled in a weird assortment of ropes and bones.

‘Thanks for the skeletons,’ she said. ‘Great trick.’

‘Which he won’t be doing again,’ Will said.

Nico realized he was still leaning against Will. He pushed him away and stood on his own two feet. ‘I’ll do what I need to.’

Will rolled his eyes. ‘Fine, Death Boy. If you want to get yourself killed –’

‘Do not call me Death Boy!’

Lou Ellen cleared her throat. ‘Um, guys –’

‘DROP YOUR WEAPONS!’

Nico turned. The fight at the third onager had not gone unnoticed.

The entire First Cohort was advancing on them, spears levelled, shields locked. In front of them marched Octavian, purple robes over his armour, Imperial gold jewellery glittering on his neck and arms, and a crown of laurels on his head as if he’d already won the battle. Next to him was the legion’s standard-bearer, Jacob, holding the golden eagle, and six huge cynocephali, their canine teeth bared, their swords glowing red.

‘Well,’ Octavian snarled, ‘Graecus saboteurs.’ He turned to his dog-headed warriors. ‘Tear them apart.’

Nico wasn't sure whether to kick himself or Will Solace.

If he hadn’t been so distracted bickering with the son of Apollo, he would never have allowed the enemy to get so close.

As the dog-headed men barrelled forward, Nico raised his sword. He doubted he had the strength left to win, but, before he could attack them, Will let out a piercing taxicab whistle.

All six dog-men dropped their weapons, grabbed their ears and fell down in agony.

‘Dude.’ Cecil opened his mouth to pop his ears. ‘What the actual Hades? A little warning next time.’

‘It’s even worse for the dogs.’ Will shrugged. ‘One of my few musical talents. I do a really awful ultrasonic whistle.’

Nico didn’t complain. He waded through the dog-men, jabbing them with his sword. They dissolved into shadows.

Octavian and the other Romans seemed too stunned to react.

‘My – my elite guard!’ Octavian looked around for sympathy. ‘Did you see what he did to my elite guard?’

‘Some dogs need to be put down.’ Nico took a step forward. ‘Like you.’

For one beautiful moment, the entire First Cohort wavered. Then they remembered themselves and levelled their pila.

‘You will be destroyed!’ Octavian shrieked. ‘You Graeci sneak around, sabotaging our weapons, attacking our men –’

‘You mean the weapons you were about to fire at us?’ Cecil asked.

‘And the men who were about to burn our camp to ashes?’ added Lou Ellen.

‘Just like a Greek!’ Octavian yelled. ‘Trying to twist things around! Well, it won’t work!’ He pointed to the nearest legionnaires. ‘You, you, you and you. Check all the onagers. Make sure they’re operational. I want them fired simultaneously as soon as possible. Go!’

The four Romans ran.

Nico tried to keep his expression neutral.

Please don’t check the firing trajectory, he thought.

He hoped Cecil had done his work well. It was one thing to screw up a huge weapon. It was another thing to screw it up so subtly that no one noticed until it was too late. But if anyone had that skill it would be a child of Hermes, god of trickery.

Octavian marched up to Nico. To his credit, the augur didn’t seem afraid, though his only weapon was a dagger. He stopped so close that Nico could see the bloodshot veins in his pale watery eyes. His face was gaunt. His hair was the colour of overcooked spaghetti. Nico knew Octavian was a legacy – a descendant of Apollo many generations removed. Now, he couldn’t help thinking that Octavian looked like a watered-down, unhealthy version of Will Solace – like a photo that had been copied too many times. Whatever made a child of Apollo special, Octavian didn’t have it.

‘Tell me, son of Pluto,’ the augur hissed, ‘why are you helping the Greeks? What have they ever done for you?’

Nico was itching to stab Octavian in the chest. He’d been dreaming of that ever since Bryce Lawrence had attacked them in South Carolina. But, now that they were face to face, Nico hesitated. He had no doubt he could kill Octavian before the First Cohort intervened. Nor did Nico particularly care if he died for his actions. The trade-off would be worth it. But, after what happened with Bryce, the idea of cutting down another demigod in cold blood – even Octavian – didn’t sit well. Nor did it seem right to sentence Cecil, Lou Ellen and Will to die with him.

It doesn’t seem right? Another part of him wondered, Since when do I worry about what’s right?

‘I’m helping the Greeks and the Romans,’ Nico said.

Octavian laughed. ‘Don’t try to con me. What have they offered you – a place in their camp? They won’t honour their agreement.’

‘I don’t want a place in their camp,’ Nico snarled. ‘Or in yours. When this war is over, I’m leaving both camps for good.’

Will Solace made a sound like he’d been punched. ‘Why would you do that?’

Nico scowled. ‘It’s none of your business, but I don’t belong. That’s obvious. No one wants me. I’m a child of –’

‘Oh, please.’ Will sounded unusually angry. ‘Nobody at Camp Half-Blood ever pushed you away. You have friends – or at least people who would like to be your friend. You pushed yourself away. If you’d get your head out of that brooding cloud of yours for once –’

‘Enough!’ Octavian snapped. ‘Di Angelo, I can beat any offer the Greeks could make. I always thought you would make a powerful ally. I see the ruthlessness in you, and I appreciate that. I can assure you a place in New Rome. All you have to do is step aside and allow the Romans to win. The god Apollo has shown me the future –’

‘No!’ Will Solace shoved Nico out of the way and got in Octavian’s face. ‘I am a son of Apollo, you anaemic loser. My father hasn’t shown anyone the future, because the power of prophecy isn’t working. But this –’ He waved loosely at the assembled legion, the hordes of monstrous armies spread across the hillside. ‘This is not what Apollo would want!’

Octavian’s lip curled. ‘You lie. The god told me personally that I would be remembered as the saviour of Rome. I will lead the legion to victory, and I will start by –’

Nico felt the sound before he heard it – thunk-thunk-thunk reverberating through the earth, like the massive gears of a drawbridge. All the onagers fired at once, and six golden comets billowed into the sky.

‘By destroying the Greeks!’ Octavian cried with glee. ‘The days of Camp Half-Blood are over!’

Nico couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than an off-course projectile. At least, not today. From the three sabotaged machines, the payloads veered sideways, arcing towards the barrage from the other three onagers.

The fireballs didn’t collide directly. They didn’t need to. As soon as the missiles got close to one another, all six warheads detonated in midair, spraying a dome of gold and fire that sucked the oxygen right out of the sky.

The heat stung Nico’s face. The grass hissed. The tops of the trees steamed. But, when the fireworks faded, no serious damage had been done.

Octavian reacted first. He stomped his feet and yelled, ‘NO! NO, NO! RELOAD!’

No one in the First Cohort moved. Nico heard the tromping of boots to his right. The Fifth Cohort was marching towards them double-time, Dakota in the lead.

Further downhill, the rest of the legion was trying to form up, but the Second, Third and Fourth Cohorts were now surrounded by a sea of ill-tempered monstrous allies. The auxilia forces didn’t look happy about the explosion overhead. No doubt they’d been waiting for Camp Half-Blood to go up in flames so they’d get chargrilled demigod for breakfast.

‘Octavian!’ Dakota called. ‘We have new orders.’

Octavian’s left eye twitched so violently it looked like it might explode. ‘Orders? From whom? Not from me!’

‘From Reyna,’ Dakota said, loud enough to make sure everyone in the First Cohort could hear. ‘She’s ordered us to stand down.’

‘Reyna?’ Octavian laughed, though no one seemed to get the joke. ‘You mean the outlaw I sent you to arrest? The ex-praetor who conspired to betray her own people with this Graecus?’ He jabbed his finger in Nico’s chest. ‘You’re taking orders from her?’

The Fifth Cohort formed up behind their centurion, uneasily facing their comrades in the First. Dakota crossed his arms stubbornly. ‘Reyna is the praetor until voted otherwise by the Senate.’

‘This is war!’ Octavian yelled. ‘I’ve brought you to the brink of ultimate victory and you want to give up? First Cohort: arrest Centurion Dakota and any who stand with him. Fifth Cohort: remember your vows to Rome and the legion. You will obey me!’

Will Solace shook his head. ‘Don’t do this, Octavian. Don’t force your people to choose. This is your last chance.’

‘My last chance?’ Octavian grinned, madness glinting in his eyes. ‘I will SAVE ROME! Now, Romans, follow my orders! Arrest Dakota. Destroy these Graecus scum. And reload those onagers!’

What the Romans would have done left to their own devices, Nico didn’t know. But he hadn’t counted on the Greeks.

At that moment, the entire army of Camp Half-Blood appeared on the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Clarisse La Rue rode in the lead, on a red war chariot pulled by metal horses. A hundred demigods fanned out around her, with twice that many satyrs and nature spirits led by Grover Underwood. Tyson lumbered forward with six other Cyclopes. Chiron stood in full white stallion mode, his bow drawn.

It was an impressive sight, but all Nico could think was: No. Not now.

Clarisse yelled, ‘Romans, you have fired on our camp! Withdraw or be destroyed!’

Octavian wheeled on his troops. ‘You see? It was a trick! They divided us so they could launch a surprise attack. Legion, cuneum formate! CHARGE!’

Nico wanted to yell: Time out! Hold it! Freeze!

But he knew it wouldn’t do any good. After weeks of waiting, agonizing and steaming, the Greeks and Romans wanted blood. Trying to stop the battle now would be like trying to push back a flood after the dam broke.

Will Solace saved the day.

He put his fingers in his mouth and did a taxicab whistle even more horrible than the last. Several Greeks dropped their swords. A ripple went through the Roman line like the entire First Cohort was shuddering.

‘DON’T BE STUPID!’ Will yelled. ‘LOOK!’

He pointed to the north, and Nico grinned from ear to ear. He decided there was something more beautiful than an off-course projectile: the Athena Parthenos gleaming in the sunrise, flying in from the coast, suspended from the tethers of six winged horses. Roman eagles circled but did not attack. A few of them even swooped in, grabbed the cables and helped carry the statue.

Nico didn’t see Blackjack, which worried him, but Reyna Ramírez-Arellano rode on Guido’s back. Her sword was held high. Her purple cloak glittered strangely, catching the sunlight. Both armies stared, dumbfounded, as the forty-foot-tall gold and ivory statue came in for a landing.

‘GREEK DEMIGODS!’ Reyna’s voice boomed as if projected from the statue itself, like the Athena Parthenos had become a stack of concert speakers. ‘Behold your most sacred statue, the Athena Parthenos, wrongly taken by the Romans. I return it to you now as a gesture of peace!’

The statue settled on the crest of the hill, about twenty feet away from Thalia’s pine tree. Instantly gold light rippled across the ground, into the valley of Camp Half-Blood and down the opposite side through the Roman ranks. Warmth seeped into Nico’s bones – a comforting, peaceful sensation he hadn’t had since … he couldn’t even remember.

A voice inside him seemed to whisper: You are not alone. You are part of the Olympian family. The gods have not abandoned you.

‘Romans!’ Reyna yelled. ‘I do this for the good of the legion, for the good of Rome. We must stand together with our Greek brethren!’

‘Listen to her!’ Nico marched forward.

He wasn’t even sure why he did it. Why would either side listen to him? He was the worst speaker, the worst ambassador ever.

Yet he strode between the battle lines, his black sword in his hand. ‘Reyna risked her life for all of you! We brought this statue halfway across the world, Roman and Greek working together, because we must join forces. Gaia is rising. If we don’t work together –’

YOU WILL DIE.

The voice shook the earth. Nico’s feeling of peace and safety instantly vanished. Wind swept across the hillside. The ground itself became fluid and sticky, the grass pulling at Nico’s boots.

A FUTILE GESTURE.

Nico felt as if he was standing on the goddess’s throat – as if the entire length of Long Island resonated with her vocal cords.

BUT, IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY, YOU MAY DIE TOGETHER.

‘No …’ Octavian scrambled backwards. ‘No, no …’ He broke and ran, pushing through his own troops.

‘CLOSE RANKS!’ Reyna yelled.

The Greeks and Romans moved together, standing shoulder to shoulder as all around them the earth shook.

Octavian’s auxilia troops surged forward, surrounding the demigods. Both camps put together were a minuscule dot in a sea of enemies. They would make their final stand on Half-Blood Hill, with the Athena Parthenos as their rallying point.

But even here they stood on enemy ground. Because Gaia was the earth, and the earth was awake.

‘Lord Zeus,’ Piper spoke up, ‘is Reyna okay? Nico and Coach Hedge?’

Jason’s heart lifted when he saw Nico di Angelo on the front lines with the Greeks, slashing his way through a crowd of two-headed men. A few feet away, Reyna sat astride a new pegasus, her sword drawn. She shouted orders at the legion, and the Romans obeyed without question, as if she’d never been away.

Nico nodded to Jason as if they’d just seen each other five minutes ago, then went back to turning two-headed men into no-headed corpses. ‘Good timing. Where’s the ship?’

Jason pointed. The Argo II streaked across the sky in a ball of fire, shedding burning chunks of mast, hull and armament. Jason didn’t see how even fireproof Leo could survive in that inferno, but he had to hope.

‘Gods,’ Nico said. ‘Is everyone okay?’

‘Leo …’ Jason’s voice broke. ‘He said he had a plan.’

The comet disappeared behind the western hills. Jason waited with dread for the sound of an explosion, but he heard nothing over the roar of battle.

Nico met his eyes. ‘He’ll be fine.’

‘Sure.’

‘But just in case … For Leo.’

‘For Leo,’ Jason agreed. They charged into the fight.

Jason’s anger gave him renewed strength. The Greeks and Romans slowly pushed back the enemies. Wild centaurs toppled. Wolf-headed men howled as they were cut to ashes. More monsters kept appearing – karpoi grain spirits swirling out of the grass, gryphons diving from the sky, lumpy clay humanoids that made Jason think of evil Play-Doh men.

‘They’re ghosts with earthen shells!’ Nico warned. ‘Don’t let them hit you!’

Obviously Gaia had kept some surprises in reserve.

At one point, Will Solace, the lead camper for Apollo, ran up to Nico and said something in his ear. Over the yelling and clashing of blades, Jason couldn’t hear the words.

‘Jason, I have to go!’ Nico said.

Jason didn’t really understand, but he nodded, and Will and Nico dashed off into the fray.

Nico had witnessed many forms of death. He didn’t think anything could surprise him any more.

He was wrong.

In the middle of the battle, Will Solace ran up to him and said one word in his ear: ‘Octavian.’

That got Nico’s full attention. He had hesitated when he’d had the chance to kill Octavian, but there was no way Nico would let that scumbag augur escape justice. ‘Where?’

‘Come on,’ Will said. ‘Hurry.’

Nico turned to Jason, who was fighting next to him. ‘Jason, I have to go.’

Then he plunged into the chaos, following Will. They passed Tyson and his Cyclopes, who were bellowing, ‘Bad dog! Bad dog!’ as they bashed the heads of the cynocephali. Grover Underwood and a team of satyrs danced around with their panpipes, playing harmonies so dissonant that the earthenshelled ghosts cracked apart. Travis Stoll ran past, arguing with his brother. ‘What do you mean we set the landmines on the wrong hill?’

Nico and Will were halfway down the hill when the ground trembled under their feet. Like everyone else – monster and demigod alike – they froze in horror and watched as the whirling column of earth erupted from the top of the next hill, and Gaia appeared in all her glory.

Then something large and bronze swooped out of the sky.

FOOOOMP!

Festus the bronze dragon snatched up the Earth Mother and soared away with her.

‘What – how –?’ Nico stammered.

‘I don’t know,’ Will said. ‘But I doubt there’s much we can do about that. We have other problems.’

Will sprinted towards the nearest onager. As they got closer, Nico spotted Octavian furiously readjusting the machine’s targeting levers. The throwing arm was already primed with a full payload of Imperial gold and explosives. The augur rushed about, tripping over gears and anchor spikes, fumbling with the ropes. Every so often he glanced up at Festus the dragon.

‘Octavian!’ Nico yelled.

The augur spun, then backed up against the huge sphere of ammunition. His fine purple robes snagged on the trigger rope, but Octavian didn’t notice. Fumes from the payload curled about him as if drawn to the Imperial gold jewellery around his arms and neck, the golden wreath in his hair.

‘Oh, I see!’ Octavian’s laughter was brittle and quite insane. ‘Trying to steal my glory, eh? No, no, son of Pluto. I am the saviour of Rome. I was promised!’

Will raised his hands in a placating gesture. ‘Octavian, get away from the onager. That isn’t safe.’

‘Of course it’s not! I will shoot Gaia down with this machine!’

Out of the corner of his eye, Nico saw Jason Grace rocket into the sky with Piper in his arms, flying straight towards Festus. Around the son of Jupiter, storm clouds gathered, swirling into a hurricane. Thunder boomed.

‘You see?’ Octavian cried. The gold on his body was definitely smoking now, attracted to the catapult’s payload like iron to a giant magnet. ‘The gods approve of my actions!’

‘Jason is making that storm,’ Nico said. ‘If you fire the onager, you’ll kill him and Piper, and –’

‘Good!’ Octavian yelled. ‘They’re traitors! All traitors!’

‘Listen to me,’ Will tried again. ‘This is not what Apollo would want. Besides, your robes are –’

‘You know nothing, Graecus!’ Octavian wrapped his hand around the release lever. ‘I must act before they get any higher. Only an onager such as this can make the shot. I will singlehandedly –’

‘Centurion,’ said a voice behind him.

From the back of the siege engine, Michael Kahale appeared. He had a large red knot on his forehead where Tyson had knocked him unconscious. He stumbled as he walked. But somehow he had found his way here from the shore, and along the way he’d picked up a sword and shield.

‘Michael!’ Octavian shrieked with glee. ‘Excellent! Guard me while I fire this onager. Then we will kill these Graeci together!’

Michael Kahale took in the scene – his boss’s robes tangled in the trigger rope, Octavian’s jewellery fuming from proximity to the Imperial gold ammunition. He glanced up at the dragon, now high in the air, surrounded by rings of storm clouds like the circles of an archery target. Then he scowled at Nico.

Nico readied his own sword.

Surely Michael Kahale would warn his leader to step away from the onager. Surely he would attack.

‘Are you certain, Octavian?’ asked the son of Venus.

‘Yes!’

‘Are you absolutely certain?’

‘Yes, you fool! I will be remembered as the saviour of Rome. Now keep them away while I destroy Gaia!’

‘Octavian, don’t,’ Will pleaded. ‘We can’t allow you –’

‘Will,’ Nico said, ‘we can’t stop him.’

Solace stared at him in disbelief, but Nico remembered his father’s words in the Chapel of Bones: Some deaths cannot be prevented.

Octavian’s eyes gleamed. ‘That’s right, son of Pluto. You are helpless to stop me! It is my destiny! Kahale, stand guard!’

‘As you wish.’ Michael moved in front of the machine, interposing himself between Octavian and the two Greek demigods. ‘Centurion, do what you must.’

Octavian turned to release the catch. ‘A good friend to the last.’

Nico almost lost his nerve. If the onager really did fire true – if it scored a hit on Festus the dragon, and Nico allowed his friends to be hurt or killed … But he stayed where he was. For once, he decided to trust the wisdom of his father. Some deaths should not be prevented.

‘Goodbye, Gaia!’ Octavian yelled. ‘Goodbye, Jason Grace the traitor!’

Octavian cut the release wire with his augur’s knife.

And he disappeared.

The catapult arm sprang upward faster than Nico’s eye could follow, launching Octavian along with the ammunition. The augur’s scream faded until he was simply part of the fiery comet soaring skyward.

‘Goodbye, Octavian,’ Michael Kahale said.

He glared at Will and Nico one last time, as if daring them to speak. Then he turned his back and trudged away.

Nico could have lived with Octavian’s end.

He might even have said good riddance.

But his heart sank as the comet kept gaining altitude. It disappeared into the storm clouds, and the sky exploded in a dome of fire.

The next day, there weren't many answers.

After the explosion, Piper and Jason – free-falling and unconscious – were plucked out of the sky by giant eagles and brought to safety, but Leo did not reappear. The entire Hephaestus cabin scoured the valley, finding bits and pieces of the Argo II’s broken hull, but no sign of Festus the dragon or his master.

All the monsters had been destroyed or scattered. Greek and Roman casualties were heavy, but not nearly as bad as they might have been.

Overnight, the satyrs and nymphs disappeared into the woods for a convocation of the Cloven Elders. In the morning, Grover Underwood reappeared to announce that they could not sense the Earth Mother’s presence. Nature was more or less back to normal. Apparently, Jason, Piper and Leo’s plan had worked. Gaia had been separated from her source of power, charmed to sleep and then atomized in the combined explosion of Leo’s fire and Octavian’s man-made comet. An immortal could never die, but now Gaia would be like her husband, Ouranos. The earth would continue to function as normal, just as the sky did, but Gaia was now so dispersed and powerless that she could never again form a consciousness.

At least, that was the hope …

Octavian would be remembered for saving Rome by hurling himself into the sky in a fiery ball of death. But it was Leo Valdez who had made the real sacrifice.

The victory celebration at camp was muted, due to grief – not just for Leo but also for the many others who had died in battle. Shrouded demigods, both Greek and Roman, were burned at the campfire, and Chiron asked Nico to oversee the burial rites.

Nico agreed immediately. He was grateful for the opportunity to honour the dead. Even the hundreds of spectators didn’t bother him.

The hardest part was afterwards, when Nico and the six demigods from the Argo II met on the porch of the Big House.

Jason hung his head, even his glasses lost in shadow. ‘We should have been there at the end. We could’ve helped Leo.’

‘It’s not right,’ Piper agreed, wiping away her tears. ‘All that work getting the physician’s cure, for nothing.’

Hazel broke down crying. ‘Piper, where’s the cure? Bring it out.’

Bewildered, Piper reached into her belt pouch. She produced the chamois-cloth package, but when she unfolded the cloth it was empty.

All eyes turned to Hazel.

‘How?’ Annabeth asked.

Frank put his arm around Hazel. ‘In Delos, Leo pulled the two of us aside. He pleaded with us to help him.’

Through her tears, Hazel explained how she had switched the physician’s cure for an illusion – a trick of the Mist – so that Leo could keep the real vial. Frank told them about Leo’s plan to destroy a weakened Gaia with one massive fiery explosion. After talking with Nike and Apollo, Leo had been certain that such an explosion would kill any mortal within a quarter of a mile, so he knew he would have to get far away from everyone.

‘He wanted to do it alone,’ Frank said. ‘He thought there would be a slim chance that he, a son of Hephaestus, could survive the fire, but if anyone was with him … He said that Hazel and I, being Roman, would understand about sacrifice. But he knew the rest of you would never allow it.’

At first the others looked angry, like they wanted to scream and throw things. But, as Frank and Hazel talked, the group’s rage seemed to dissipate. It was hard to be mad at Frank and Hazel when they were both crying. Also … the plan sounded exactly like the sneaky, twisted, ridiculously annoying and noble sort of thing Leo Valdez would do.

Finally Piper let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. ‘If he were here right now, I would kill him. How was he planning to take the cure? He was alone!’

‘Maybe he found a way,’ Percy said. ‘This is Leo we’re talking about. He might come back any minute. Then we can take turns strangling him.’

Nico and Hazel exchanged looks. They both knew better, but they said nothing.

The next day, the second since the battle, Romans and Greeks worked side by side to clean up the warzone and tend the wounded. Blackjack the pegasus was recovering nicely from his arrow wound. Guido had decided to adopt Reyna as his human. Reluctantly, Lou Ellen had agreed to turn her new pet piglets back into Romans.

Will Solace hadn’t spoken with Nico since the encounter at the onager. The son of Apollo spent most of his time in the infirmary, but whenever Nico saw him running across camp to fetch more medical supplies, or make a house call on some wounded demigod, he felt a strange twinge of melancholy. No doubt Will Solace thought Nico was a monster now, for letting Octavian kill himself.

The Romans bivouacked next to the strawberry fields, where they insisted on building their standard field camp. The Greeks pitched in to help them raise the earthen walls and dig the trenches. Nico had never seen anything stranger or cooler. Dakota shared Kool-Aid with the kids from the Dionysus cabin. The children of Hermes and Mercury laughed and told stories and brazenly stole things from just about everyone. Reyna, Annabeth and Piper were inseparable, roaming the camp as a trio to check on the progress of the repairs. Chiron, escorted by Frank and Hazel, inspected the Roman troops and praised them for their bravery.

By evening, the general mood had improved somewhat. The dining hall pavilion had never been so crowded. The Romans were welcomed like old friends. Coach Hedge roamed among the demigods, beaming and holding his baby boy and saying, ‘Hey, you want to meet Chuck? This is my boy, Chuck!’

The Aphrodite and Athena girls alike cooed over the feisty little satyr baby, who waved his pudgy fists, kicked his tiny hooves and bleated, ‘Baaaa! Baaaa!’

Clarisse, who had been named the baby’s godmother, trailed behind the coach like a bodyguard and occasionally muttered, ‘All right, all right. Give the kid some space.’

At announcement time, Chiron stepped forward and raised his goblet.

‘Out of every tragedy,’ he said, ‘comes new strength. Today, we thank the gods for this victory. To the gods!’

The demigods all joined the toast, but their enthusiasm seemed muted. Nico understood the feeling: We saved the gods again, and now we’re supposed to thank them?

Then Chiron said, ‘And to new friends!’

‘TO NEW FRIENDS!’

Hundreds of demigod voices echoed across the hills.

At the campfire, everyone kept looking at the stars, as if they expected Leo to come back in some dramatic, last-minute surprise. Maybe he’d swoop in, jump off Festus’s back and launch into corny jokes. It didn’t happen.

After a few songs, Reyna and Frank were called to the front. They got a thunderous round of applause from both the Greeks and Romans. Up on Half-Blood Hill, the Athena Parthenos glowed more brightly in moonlight, as if to signal: These kids are all right.

‘Tomorrow,’ Reyna said, ‘we Romans must return home. We appreciate your hospitality, especially since we almost killed you –’

‘You almost got killed,’ Annabeth corrected.

‘Whatever, Chase.’

Oooooohhhhh! the crowd said as one. Then everybody started laughing and pushing each other around. Even Nico had to smile.

‘Anyway,’ Frank took over, ‘Reyna and I agree this marks a new era of friendship between the camps.’

Reyna clapped him on the back. ‘That’s right. For hundreds of years, the gods tried to separate us to keep us from fighting. But there’s a better kind of peace – cooperation.’

Piper stood up from the audience. ‘Are you sure your mom is a war goddess?’

‘Yes, McLean,’ Reyna said. ‘I still intend to fight a lot of battles. But from now on we fight together!’

That got a big cheer.

Zhang raised his hand for quiet. ‘You’ll all be welcome at Camp Jupiter. We’ve come to an agreement with Chiron: a free exchange between the camps – weekend visits, training programmes and, of course, emergency aid in times of need –’

‘And parties?’ asked Dakota.

‘Hear, hear!’ said Conner Stoll.

Reyna spread her arms. ‘That goes without saying. We Romans invented parties.’

Another big Oooohhhhhhhh!

‘So thank you,’ Reyna concluded. ‘All of you. We could’ve chosen hatred and war. Instead we found acceptance and friendship.’

Then she did something so unexpected Nico would later think he dreamed it. She walked up to Nico, who was standing to one side in the shadows, as usual. She grabbed his hand and pulled him gently into the firelight.

‘We had one home,’ she said. ‘Now we have two.’

She gave Nico a big hug and the crowd roared with approval. For once, Nico didn’t feel like pulling away. He buried his face in Reyna’s shoulder and blinked the tears out of his eyes.

That night, Nico slept in the Hades cabin.

He’d never had any desire to use the place before, but now he shared it with Hazel, which made all the difference. It made him happy to live with a sister again – even if it was only for a few days, and even if Hazel insisted on partitioning her side of the room with sheets for privacy so it looked like a quarantine zone.

Just before curfew, Frank came to visit and spent a few minutes talking with Hazel in hushed tones. Nico tried to ignore them. He stretched out in his bunk, which resembled a coffin – a polished mahogany frame, brass railings, blood-red velvet pillows and blankets. Nico hadn’t been present when they built this cabin. He definitely had not suggested these bunks. Apparently somebody thought the children of Hades were vampires, not demigods.

Finally Frank knocked on the wall next to Nico’s bed.

Nico looked over. Zhang stood so tall now. He seemed so … Roman.

‘Hey,’ Frank said. ‘We’ll be leaving in the morning. Just wanted to tell you thanks.’

Nico sat up in his bunk. ‘You did great, Frank. It’s been an honour.’

Frank smiled. ‘Honestly, I’m kind of surprised I lived through it. The whole magic firewood thing…’

Nico nodded. Hazel had told him all about the piece of firewood that controlled Frank’s lifeline. Nico took it as a good sign that Frank could talk about it openly now.

‘I can’t see the future,’ Nico told him, ‘but I can often tell when people are close to death. You’re not. I don’t know when that piece of firewood will burn up. Eventually, we all run out of firewood. But it won’t be soon, Praetor Zhang. You and Hazel … you’ve got a lot more adventures ahead of you. You’re just getting started. Be good to my sister, okay?’

Hazel walked up next to Frank and laced her hand with his. ‘Nico, you’re not threatening my boyfriend, are you?’

The two of them looked so comfortable together it made Nico glad. But it also it caused an ache in his heart – a ghostly pain, like an old war wound throbbing in bad weather.

‘No need for threats,’ Nico said. ‘Frank’s a good guy. Or bear. Or bulldog. Or –’

‘Oh, stop.’ Hazel laughed. Then she kissed Frank. ‘See you in the morning.’

‘Yeah,’ Frank said. ‘Nico … you sure you won’t come with us? You’ll always have a place in New Rome.’

‘Thanks, Praetor. Reyna said the same thing. But … no.’

‘I hope I’ll see you again?’

‘Oh, you will,’ Nico promised. ‘I’m going to be the flower boy at your wedding, right?’

‘Um …’ Frank got flustered, cleared his throat and shuffled off, running into the doorjamb on the way out.

Hazel crossed her arms. ‘You just had to tease him about that.’

She sat on Nico’s bunk. For a while they just stayed there in comfortable silence … siblings, children from the past, children of the Underworld.

‘I’m going to miss you,’ Nico said.

Hazel leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘You too, big brother. You will visit.’

He tapped the new officer’s badge that gleamed on her shirt. ‘Centurion of the Fifth Cohort now. Congratulations. Are there rules against centurions dating praetors?’

‘Shhh,’ Hazel said. ‘It’ll be a lot of work getting the legion back in shape, repairing the damage Octavian did. Dating regulations will be the least of my worries.’

‘You’ve come so far. You’re not the same girl I brought to Camp Jupiter. Your power with the Mist, your confidence –’

‘It’s all thanks to you.’

‘No,’ Nico said. ‘Getting a second life is one thing. Making it a better life, that’s the trick.’

As soon as he said it, Nico realized he could’ve been talking about himself. He decided not to bring that up.

Hazel sighed. ‘A second life. I just wish …’

She didn’t need to finish her thought. For the past two days, Leo’s disappearance had hovered like a cloud over the whole camp. Hazel and Nico had been reluctant to join the speculation about what had happened to him.

‘You felt his death, didn’t you?’ Hazel’s eyes were watery. Her voice was small.

‘Yeah,’ Nico admitted. ‘But I don’t know, Hazel. Something about it was … different.’

‘He couldn’t have taken the physician’s cure. Nothing could have survived that explosion. I thought… I thought I was helping Leo. I messed up.’

‘No. It is not your fault.’ But Nico wasn’t quite so ready to forgive himself. He’d spent the last forty-eight hours replaying the scene with Octavian at the catapult, wondering if he’d done wrong thing. Perhaps the explosive power of that projectile had helped destroy Gaia. Or perhaps it had unnecessarily cost Leo Valdez his life.

‘I just wish he hadn’t died alone,’ Hazel murmured. ‘There was no one with him, no one to give him that cure. There’s not even a body to bury …’

Her voice broke. Nico put his arm around her.

He held her as she wept. Eventually she fell asleep from exhaustion. Nico tucked her into his own bed and kissed her forehead. Then he went to the shrine of Hades in the corner – a little table decorated with bones and jewels.

‘I suppose,’ he said, ‘there’s a first time for everything.’

He knelt and prayed silently for his father’s guidance.

At dawn, he was still awake when someone rapped at the door.

He turned, registering a face with blond hair, and for a split second he thought it was Will Solace. When Nico realized it was Jason, he was disappointed. Then he felt angry with himself for feeling that way.

He hadn’t talked to Will since the battle. The Apollo kids had been too busy with the injured. Besides, Will probably blamed Nico for what happened to Octavian. Why wouldn’t he? Nico had basically permitted … whatever that was. Murder by consensus. A gruesome suicide. By now, Will Solace realized just how creepy and revolting Nico di Angelo was. Of course, Nico didn’t care what he thought. But still …

‘You okay?’ Jason asked. ‘You look –’

‘Fine,’ Nico snapped. Then he softened his tone. ‘If you’re looking for Hazel, she’s still asleep.’

Jason mouthed, Oh, and gestured for Nico to come outside.

Nico stepped into the sunlight, blinking and disoriented. Ugh … Perhaps the cabin’s designers had been right about the children of Hades being like vampires. He was not a morning person.

Jason didn’t look as though he’d slept any better. His hair had a cowlick on one side and his new glasses sat crookedly on his nose. Nico resisted the urge to reach out and straighten them. Jason pointed to the strawberry fields, where the Romans were breaking camp. ‘It was strange to see them here. Now it’ll be strange not seeing them.’

‘Do you regret not going with them?’ Nico asked.

Jason’s smile was lopsided. ‘A little. But I’ll be going back and forth between the camps a lot. I have some shrines to build.’

‘I heard. The Senate plans to elect you Pontifex Maximus.’

Jason shrugged. ‘I don’t care about the title so much. I do care about making sure the gods are remembered. I don’t want them fighting out of jealousy any more, or taking out their frustrations on demigods.’

‘They’re gods,’ Nico said. ‘That’s their nature.’

‘Maybe, but I can try to make it better. I guess Leo would say I’m acting like a mechanic, doing preventative maintenance.’

Nico sensed Jason’s sorrow like an oncoming storm. ‘You know, you couldn’t have stopped Leo. There’s nothing you could have done differently. He knew what had to happen.’

‘I – I guess. I don’t suppose you can tell if he’s still –’

‘He’s gone,’ Nico said. ‘I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I sensed his death.’

Jason stared into the distance.

Nico felt guilty for squashing his hopes. He was almost tempted to mention his own doubts … what a dif erent sensation Leo’s death had given him, as if Leo’s soul had invented its own way into the Underworld, something that involved lots of gears, levers and steam-powered pistons. Nevertheless, Nico was sure Leo Valdez had died. And death was death. It wouldn’t be fair to give Jason false expectations.

In the distance, the Romans were picking up their gear and toting it across the hill. On the other side, so Nico had heard, a fleet of black SUVs waited to transport the legion cross-country back to California. Nico guessed that would be an interesting road trip. He imagined the entire Twelfth Legion in the drive-through lane at Burger King. He imagined some hapless monster terrorizing a random demigod in Kansas, only to find itself surrounded by several dozen carloads of heavily armoured Romans.

‘Ella the harpy is going with them, you know,’ Jason said. ‘She and Tyson. Even Rachel Elizabeth Dare. They’re going to work together to try to reconstruct the Sibylline Books.’

‘That should be interesting.’

‘Could take years,’ Jason said. ‘But with the voice of Delphi extinguished …’

‘Rachel still can’t see the future?’

Jason shook his head. ‘I wish I knew what happened to Apollo in Athens. Maybe Artemis will get him out of trouble with Zeus and the power of prophecy will work again. But for now those Sibylline Books might be our only way to get guidance for quests.’

‘Personally,’ Nico said, ‘I could do without prophecies or quests for a while.’

‘You’ve got a point.’ He straightened his glasses. ‘Look, Nico, the reason I wanted to talk to you… I know what you said back at Auster’s palace. I know you already turned down a place at Camp Jupiter. I – I probably can’t change your mind about leaving Camp Half-Blood, but I have to –’

‘I’m staying.’

Jason blinked. ‘What?’

‘At Camp Half-Blood. The Hades cabin needs a head counsellor. Have you seen the decor? It’s disgusting. I’ll have to renovate. And someone needs to do the burial rites properly, since demigods insist on dying heroically.’

‘That’s – that’s fantastic! Dude!’ Jason opened his arms for a hug, then froze. ‘Right. No touching. Sorry.’

Nico grunted. ‘I suppose we can make an exception.’

Jason squeezed him so hard Nico thought his ribs would crack.

‘Oh, man,’ Jason said. ‘Wait till I tell Piper. Hey, since I’m all alone in my cabin too, you and I can share a table in the dining hall. We can team up for capture the flag and sing-along contests and –’

‘Are you trying to scare me away?’

‘Sorry. Sorry. Whatever you say, Nico. I’m just glad.’

The funny thing was Nico believed him.

Nico happened to glance towards the cabins and saw someone waving at him. Will Solace stood in the doorway of the Apollo cabin, a stern look on his face. He pointed to the ground at his feet, like You. Here. Now.

‘Jason,’ Nico said, ‘would you excuse me?’

‘So where were you?’ Will demanded. He was wearing a green surgeon’s shirt with jeans and flipflops, which was probably not standard hospital protocol.

‘What do you mean?’ Nico asked.

‘I’ve been stuck in the infirmary for, like, two days. You don’t come by. You don’t offer to help.’

‘I … what? Why would you want a son of Hades in the same room with people you’re trying to heal? Why would anyone want that?’

‘You can’t help out a friend? Maybe cut bandages? Bring me a soda or a snack? Or just a simple How’s it going, Will? You don’t think I could stand to see a friendly face?’

‘What … my face?’

The words simply didn’t make sense together: Friendly face. Nico di Angelo.

‘You’re so dense,’ Will noted. ‘I hope you got over that nonsense about leaving Camp HalfBlood.’

‘I – yeah. I did. I mean, I’m staying.’

‘Good. So you may be dense, but you’re not an idiot.’

‘How can you even talk to me like that? Don’t you know I can summon zombies and skeletons and–’

‘Right now you couldn’t summon a wishbone without melting into a puddle of darkness, di Angelo,’ Will said. ‘I told you, no more Underworldy stuff, doctor’s orders. You owe me at least three days of rest in the infirmary. Starting now.’

Nico felt like a hundred skeletal butterflies were resurrecting in his stomach. ‘Three days? I – I suppose that would be okay.’

‘Good. Now –’

A loud whoop! cut through the air.

Over by the hearth in the centre of the common, Percy was grinning at something Annabeth had just told him. Annabeth laughed and playfully slapped his arm.

‘I’ll be right back,’ Nico told Will. ‘Promise on the Styx and everything.’

He walked over to Percy and Annabeth, who were both still grinning like crazy.

‘Hey, man,’ Percy said. ‘Annabeth just told me some good news. Sorry if I got a little loud.’

‘We’re going to spend our senior year together,’ Annabeth explained, ‘here in New York. And after graduation –’

‘College in New Rome!’ Percy pumped his fist like he was blowing a truck horn. ‘Four years with no monsters to fight, no battles, no stupid prophecies. Just me and Annabeth, getting our degrees, hanging out at cafés, enjoying California –’

‘And after that …’ Annabeth kissed Percy on the cheek. ‘Well, Reyna and Frank said we could live in New Rome as long as we like.’

‘That’s great,’ Nico said. He was a little surprised to find that he meant it. ‘I’m staying too, here at Camp Half-Blood.’

‘Awesome!’ Percy said.

Nico studied his face – his sea-green eyes, his grin, his ruffled black hair. Somehow Percy Jackson seemed like a regular guy now, not a mythical figure. Not someone to idolize or crush on.

‘So,’ Nico said, ‘since we’re going to be spending at least a year seeing each other at camp, I think I should clear the air.’

Percy’s smile wavered. ‘What do you mean?’

‘For a long time,’ Nico said, ‘I had a crush on you. I just wanted you to know.’

Percy looked at Nico. Then at Annabeth, as if to check that he’d heard correctly. Then back at Nico. ‘You –’

‘Yeah,’ Nico said. ‘You’re a great person. But I’m over that. I’m happy for you guys.’

‘You … so you mean –’

‘Right.’

Annabeth’s grey eyes started to sparkle. She gave Nico a sideways smile.

‘Wait,’ Percy said. ‘So you mean –’

‘Right,’ Nico said again. ‘But it’s cool. We’re cool. I mean, I see now … you’re cute, but you’re not my type.’

‘I’m not your type … Wait. So –’

‘See you around, Percy,’ Nico said. ‘Annabeth.’

She raised her hand for a high five.

Nico obliged. Then he walked back across the green, to where Will Solace was waiting.

Reyna pursed her lips. ‘Nico told you?’

‘How can you believe that? He didn’t get the cure. Nico said he died.’


	10. The Hidden Oracle

On the porch of the Big House, a dark-haired young man was waiting forus. He wore faded black trousers, a Ramones T-shirt (bonus points for musical taste), and a black leather bomber jacket. At his side hung a Stygianiron sword.

“I remember you,” I said. “Is it Nicholas, son of Hades?”

“Nico di Angelo.” He studied me, his eyes sharp and colorless, like broken glass. “So it’s true. You’re completely mortal. There’s an aura of death around you—a thick possibility of death.”

Meg snorted. “Sounds like a weather forecast.”

I did not find this amusing. Being face-to-face with a son of Hades, I recalled the many mortals I had sent to the Underworld with my plague arrows. It had always seemed like good clean fun—meting out richly deserved punishments for wicked deeds. Now, I began to understand the terror in my victims’ eyes. I did not want an aura of death hanging over me. I definitely did not want to stand in judgment before Nico di Angelo’s father.

Will put his hand on Nico’s shoulder. “Nico, we need to have another talk about your people skills.”

“Hey, I’m just stating the obvious. If this is Apollo, and he dies, we’re all in trouble.”

Will turned to me. “I apologize for my boyfriend.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Could you not—”

“Would you prefer special guy?” Will asked. “Or significant other?”

“Significant annoyance, in your case,” Nico grumbled.

“Oh, I’ll get you for that.”

Meg wiped her dripping nose. “You guys fight a lot. I thought we were going to see a centaur.”

“Not what, but who,” Chiron said. “Let’s talk inside. Will, Nico, could you please tell the other campers we’ll gather for dinner in one hour? I’ll give everyone an update then. In the meantime, no one should roam the camp alone. Use the buddy system.”

“Understood.” Will looked at Nico. “Will you be my buddy?”

“You are a dork,” Nico announced.

The two of them strolled off bickering.

At this point, you may be wondering how I felt seeing my son with Nico di Angelo. I’ll admit I did not understand Will’s attraction to a child of Hades, but if the dark foreboding type was what made Will happy…

I sat at the Apollo table with my children Austin, Kayla, and Will, plus Nico di Angelo. I could see no difference between my table and any of the other gods’ tables. Mine should have been shinier and more elegant. It should have played music or recited poetry upon command. Instead it was just a slab of stone with benches on either side. I found the seating uncomfortable, though my offspring didn’t seem to mind.

Will and Nico sat shoulder to shoulder, bantering good-naturedly. They were so cute together it made me feel desolate. It jogged my memories of those few short golden months I’d shared with Hyacinthus before the jealousy, before the horrible accident…

“Nico,” I said at last, “shouldn’t you be sitting at the Hades table?”

He shrugged. “Technically, yes. But if I sit alone at my table, strange things happen. Cracks open in the floor. Zombies crawl out and start roaming around. It’s a mood disorder. I can’t control it. That’s what I told Chiron.”

“And is it true?” I asked.

Nico smiled thinly. “I have a note from my doctor.”

Will raised his hand. “I’m his doctor.”

“Chiron decided it wasn’t worth arguing about,” Nico said. “As long as I sit at a table with other people, like…oh, these guys for instance…the zombies stay away. Everybody’s happier.”

Will nodded serenely. “It’s the strangest thing. Not that Nico would ever misuse his powers to get what he wants.”

“Of course not,” Nico agreed.

Will and Nico exchanged a look that might have meant, Here we go. I suppose they got asked a lot about the seven legendary demigods who had fought side by side with the gods against Gaea’s giants. It pained me that I had not gotten to see those heroes again. After any major battle, I liked to get a group photo—along with exclusive rights to compose epic ballads about their exploits.

“Well,” Nico started, “you saw Percy. He and Annabeth are spending their senior year in New York. Hazel and Frank are at Camp Jupiter doing the Twelfth Legion thing.”

“Ah, yes.” I tried to bring up a clear mental picture of Camp Jupiter, the Roman enclave near Berkeley, California, but the details were hazy. I could only remember my conversations with Octavian, the way he’d turned my head with his flattery and promises. That stupid boy…it was his fault I was here.

A voice whispered in the back of my mind. This time I thought it might be my conscience: Who was the stupid boy? It wasn’t Octavian.

“Shut up,” I murmured.

“What?” Nico asked.

“Nothing. Continue.”

“Jason and Piper are spending the school year in Los Angeles with Piper’s dad. They took Coach Hedge, Mellie, and Little Chuck with them.”

“Uh-huh.” I did not know those last three names, so I decided they probably weren’t important. “And the seventh hero…Leo Valdez?”

Nico raised his eyebrows. “You remember his name?”

“Of course! He invented the Valdezinator. Oh, what a musical instrument! I barely had time to master its major scales before Zeus zapped me at the Parthenon. If anyone could help me, it would be Leo Valdez.”

Nico’s expression tightened with annoyance. “Well, Leo isn’t here. He died. Then he came back to life. And if I see him again, I’ll kill him.”

Will elbowed him. “No, you won’t.” He turned to me. “During the fight with Gaea, Leo and his bronze dragon, Festus, disappeared in a midair fiery explosion.”

I shivered. After so many centuries driving the sun chariot, the term midair fiery explosion did not sit well with me. I tried to remember the last time I’d seen Leo Valdez on Delos, when he’d traded the Valdezinator for information….

“He was looking for the physician’s cure,” I recalled, “the way to bring someone back from the dead. I suppose he planned all along to sacrifice himself?”

“Yep,” Will said. “He got rid of Gaea in the explosion, but we all assumed he died too.”

“Because he did,” Nico said.

“Then, a few days later,” Will continued, “this scroll came fluttering into camp on the wind….”

“I still have it.” Nico rummaged through the pockets of his bomber jacket. “I look at it whenever I want to get angry.”

He produced a thick parchment scroll. As soon as he spread it on the table, a flickering hologram appeared above the surface: Leo Valdez, looking impish as usual with his dark wispy hair, his mischievous grin, and his diminutive stature. (Of course, the hologram was only three inches tall, but even in real life Leo was not much more imposing.) His jeans, blue work shirt, and tool belt were speckled with machine oil.

“Hey, guys!” Leo spread his arms for a hug. “Sorry to leave you like that. Bad news: I died. Good news: I got better! I had to go rescue Calypso. We’re both fine now. We’re taking Festus to—” The image guttered like a flame in a strong breeze, disrupting Leo’s voice. “Back as soon as—” Static. “Cook tacos when—” More static. “¡Vaya con queso! Love ya!” The image winked out.

“That’s all we got,” Nico complained. “And that was in August. We have no idea what he was planning, where he is now, or whether he’s still safe. Jason and Piper spent most of September looking for him until Chiron finally insisted they go start their school year.”

“Well,” I said, “it sounds like Leo was planning to cook tacos. Perhaps that took longer than he anticipated. And vaya con queso…I believe he is admonishing us to go with cheese, which is always sound advice.”

This did not seem to reassure Nico.

“I don’t like being in the dark,” he muttered.

An odd complaint for a child of Hades, but I understood what he meant. I, too, was curious to know the fate of Leo Valdez. Once upon a time, I could have divined his whereabouts as easily as you might check a Facebook timeline, but now I could only stare at the sky and wonder when a small impish demigod might appear with a bronze dragon and a plate of tacos.

“You’re staring,” Nico noted.

“I am not,” Will said. “I am merely assessing how well Paolo’s arms are functioning after surgery.”

“Hmph.”

“Grover?” Nico asked. “He’s in California. The whole Council of Cloven Elders is out there, meeting about the drought.”

“Meg, get out of the way,” said Nico di Angelo. “That thing is dangerous.”

Will Solace sighed. He was, of course, tied to Nico. He propped his elbow on Nico’s shoulder as if the son of Hades were a convenient shelf. “I miss Grover. He used to organize things like this so well.”

“I’d settle for Coach Hedge.” Nico pushed Will’s arm off. “Besides, don’t talk about Grover too loudly. Juniper’s right over there.”

He pointed to one of the dryads—a pretty girl dressed in pale green.

He and Nico loped off. Julia and Alice from the Hermes cabin checked their shoes one more time, then glared at me. Connor Stoll was paired with Paolo Montes, the Brazilian son of Hebe, and neither of them seemed happy about it.

At the far end of the field, he had set up an impromptu hospital where half a dozen campers lay injured on stretchers. He was frantically tending to Paolo Montes while Nico held down the screaming patient.

Nico di Angelo gave him a canteen. “Drink. Right now, this is where you need to be.”

I could tell the son of Hades was angry too. Around his feet, the grass steamed and withered.

Will sighed. “You’re right. But that doesn’t make me feel better. I have to set Valentina’s broken arm now. You want to assist?”

“Sounds gruesome,” Nico said. “Let’s go.”

We reached the edge of the woods and found a small going-away party waiting for us: Will and Nico, Paolo Montes, Malcolm Pace, and Billie Ng, all with grim faces.

Nico handed me some ambrosia wrapped in a napkin.

“I can’t eat this,” I reminded him.

“It’s not for you.” He glanced at Meg, his eyes full of misgiving. I remembered that the son of Hades had his own ways of sensing the future— futures that involved the possibility of death. I shivered and tucked the ambrosia into my coat pocket. As aggravating as Meg could be, I was deeply unsettled by the idea that she might come to harm. I decided that I could not allow that to happen.

Nico smirked. “That’s Paolo’s good-luck bandana. I think he wants you to wear it. He believes it will make you invincible.”

My vision cleared. I found myself by the window in Cabin Seven, holding a ceramic pot of purple and red hyacinths. Nearby, looking veryconcerned, Will and Nico stood as if ready to catch me.

“He’s talking to the flowers,” Nico noted. “Is that normal?”

“Apollo,” Will said, “you had a concussion. I healed you, but—”

“These hyacinths,” I demanded. “Have they always been here?”

Will frowned. “Honestly, I don’t know where they came from, but…” He took the flowerpot from my hands and set it back on the windowsill. “Let’s worry about you, okay?”

Usually that would’ve been excellent advice, but now I could only stare at the hyacinths and wonder if they were some sort of message. How cruel to see them—the flowers that I had created to honor my fallen love, with their plumes stained red like his blood or hued violet like his eyes. They bloomedso cheerfully in the window, reminding me of the joy I had lost.

Nico rested his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Apollo, we were worried. Will was especially.”

Seeing them together, supporting each other, made my heart feel even heavier. During my delirium, both of my great loves had visited me. Now, once again, I was devastatingly alone. Still, I had a task to complete. A friend needed my help.

“Meg is in trouble,” I said. “How long was I unconscious?”

Will and Nico glanced at each other.

“It’s about noon now,” Will said. “You showed up on the green around six this morning. When Meg didn’t return with you, we wanted to search the woods for her, but Chiron wouldn’t let us.”

“Chiron was absolutely correct,” I said. “I won’t allow any others to put themselves at risk. But I must hurry. Meg has until tonight at the latest.”

“Then what happens?” Nico asked.

I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t even think about it without losing my nerve. I looked down. Aside from Paolo’s Brazilian-flag bandana and my ukulelestring necklace, I was wearing only my boxer shorts. My offensive flabbiness was on display for everyone to see, but I no longer cared about that. (Well, not much, anyway.) “I have to get dressed.”

I staggered back to my cot. I fumbled through my meager supplies and found Percy Jackson’s Led Zeppelin T-shirt. I tugged it on. It seemed more appropriate than ever.

Will hovered nearby. “Look, Apollo, I don’t think you’re back to a hundred percent.”

“I’ll be fine.” I pulled on my jeans. “I have to save Meg.”

“Let us help you,” Nico said. “Tell us where she is and I can shadowtravel—”

“No!” I snapped. “No, you have to stay here and protect the camp.”

Will’s expression reminded me very much of his mother, Naomi—thatlook of trepidation she got just before she went onstage. “Protect the camp from what?”

“I—I’m not sure. You must tell Chiron the emperors have returned. Or rather, they never went away. They’ve been plotting, building their resources for centuries.”

Nico’s eyes glinted warily. “When you say emperors—”

“I mean the Roman ones.”

Will stepped back. “You’re saying the emperors of ancient Rome are alive? How? The Doors of Death?”

“No.” I could barely speak through the taste of bile. “The emperors made themselves gods. They had their own temples and altars. They encouraged the people to worship them.”

“But that was just propaganda,” Nico said. “They weren’t really divine.”

I laughed mirthlessly. “Gods are sustained by worship, son of Hades. They continue to exist because of the collective memories of a culture. It’s true for the Olympians; it’s also true for the emperors. Somehow, the most powerful of them have survived. All these centuries, they have clung to halflife, hiding, waiting to reclaim their power.”

Will shook his head. “That’s impossible. How—?”

“I don’t know!” I tried to steady my breathing. “Tell Rachel the men behind Triumvirate Holdings are former emperors of Rome. They’ve been plotting against us all this time, and we gods have been blind. Blind.”

I pulled on my coat. The ambrosia Nico had given me yesterday was still in the left pocket. In the right pocket, Rhea’s wind chimes clanked, though I had no idea how they’d gotten there.

All across the valley, campers screamed and ran for their weapons. Nico and Will were floundering in the lake, apparently having been capsized in the middle of a canoe ride. Chiron galloped through the dunes, harrying the Colossus with his arrows. Even by my standards, Chiron was a very fine archer. He targeted the statue’s joints and seams, yet his shots did not seem to bother the automaton at all. Already dozens of missiles stuck from the Colossus’s armpits and neck like unruly hair.

“Hey!” called Nico di Angelo. He and Will scrambled over the dunes, still dripping from their swim in the canoe lake.

“What’s the plan?” Will seemed calm, but I knew him well enough by now to tell that inside he was as charged as a bare electrical wire.

BOOM.

The statue strode toward us. One more step, and it would be on top of us.

“Isn’t there a control valve on its ankle?” Ellis asked. “If we can open it—”

“No,” I said. “You’re thinking of Talos. This is not Talos.”

Nico brushed his dark wet hair from his forehead. “Then what?”

I had a lovely view of the Colossus’s nose. Its nostrils were sealed with bronze…I supposed because Nero hadn’t wanted his detractors trying to shoot arrows into his imperial noggin.

I yelped.

Kayla grabbed my arm. “Apollo, what’s wrong?”

Arrows into the Colossus’s head. Oh, gods, I had an idea that would never, ever work. However, it seemed better than our other option, which was to be crushed under a two-ton bronze foot.

“Will, Kayla, Austin,” I said, “come with me.”

“And Nico,” said Nico. “I have a doctor’s note.”

“Fine!” I said. “Ellis, Cecil, Miranda—do whatever you can to keep the Colossus’s attention.”

I was about to admit I had no idea when Nico di Angelo grabbed Will’s hand and stepped into my shadow. Both boys evaporated. I had forgotten about the power of shadow-traveling—the way children of the Underworld could step into one shadow and appear from another, sometimes hundreds of miles away. Hades used to love sneaking up on me that way and yelling, “HI!” just as I shot an arrow of death. He found it amusing if I missed my target and accidentally wiped out the wrong city.

Austin shuddered. “I hate it when Nico disappears like that. What’s our plan?”

I caught a flash of movement in the sky. This time, instead of a Colossus foot, it was Sherman Yang’s chariot, minus Sherman Yang. Will brought the pegasi in for a landing, then dragged out a half-conscious Nico di Angelo.

“Where are the others?” Kayla asked. “Sherman and the Hermes girls?”

Will rolled his eyes. “Nico convinced them to disembark.”

As if on cue, I heard Sherman screaming from somewhere far in the distance, “I’ll get you, di Angelo!”

“You guys go,” Will told me. “The chariot is only designed for three, and after that shadow-travel, Nico is going to pass out any second.”

“No, I’m not,” Nico complained, then passed out.

Will caught him in a fireman’s carry and took him away. “Good luck! I’m going to get the Lord of Darkness here some Gatorade!”

Sherman Yang graciously agreed not to kill Nico for tossing him out of his chariot, or me for damaging it, though I had the feeling the son of Ares was keeping his options open for later.

Percy traced his finger across the Athena Parthenos’s big toe. “I’ve lost too many people to bad influence: Ethan Nakamura, Luke Castellan…We almost lost Nico, too….” He shook his head. “No. No more. You can’t give up on Meg. You guys are bound together. Besides, she’s one of the good guys.”

Nico commandeered a dispenser from the snack bar and carried it around, yelling, “The line starts to the left! Orderly queue, guys!”

Calypso nodded. “Albania was particularly difficult.”

From down the line, Nico di Angelo yelled, “Please do not mention Albania! Okay, who’s next, folks? One line.”

“Yo, Nico,” Leo called, “please tell me that’s it for the physical abuse.”

“For now.” Nico smiled. “We’re still trying to get in touch with the West Coast. You’ll have a few dozen people out there who will definitely want to hit you.”

Groans were mixed in with the cheers, but most everyone got to their feet and ambled toward the bonfire now blazing in the distance, where Nico di Angelo stood silhouetted in the flames, preparing rows of marshmallows on what looked like femur bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nico di Angelo appears twice in The Dark Prophecy, both of them are just a mention and are in the same sentence. That's all the next chapter will be.


	11. The dark prophecy

In all, the boy reminded me somewhat of Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades, if Nico were slightly older, more vicious, and had been raised by jackals.


	12. The Tyrants Tomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's not even so much as mentioned in Burning Maze, not even as "The Son of Hades," so now we're here.

“Can we not talk about my death aura?”

“Sorry, it’s just…I wish Nico were here. He might know how to fix you.” I wouldn’t have minded seeing Hazel’s half brother. Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, had been quite valuable when we fought Nero at Camp Half-Blood. And of course his boyfriend, my son Will Solace, was an excellent healer. Yet I suspected they wouldn’t be able to help me any more than Pranjal had. If Will and Nico were here, they would just be two more people for me to worry about—two more loved ones watching me with concern, wondering how long until I went full-on zombie.


	13. The Tower of Nero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico for the love of the gods take care of yourself!
> 
> Let's play how many times can I bloody redo this before it finally gets posted!

_ The son of Hades, cavern-runners’ friend, _

_ Must show the secret way unto the throne. _

_ On Nero’s own your lives do now depend _

__

__

__

_ The son of Hades, cavern-runners’ friend, _

_ Must show the secret way unto the throne. _

_ On Nero’s own your lives do now depend. _

I knew a son of Hades: Nico di Angelo. He was probably  still at Camp Half-Blood on Long Island. If he had some secret  way to Nero’s throne, he’d never get the chance to show us  unless we escaped this train. How Nico might be a “cavernrunners’ friend,” I had no idea.

Son of Hades , I thought, the amphisbaena’s words echoing  in my head,  cavern-runners’ friend, / Must show the secret  way unto the throne.

Compared to the camp’s Greek temples and amphitheaters,  the four-story sky-blue Victorian known as the Big House  looked quaint and homey. Its white trim gleamed like cake  frosting. Its bronze eagle weathervane drifted lazily in the  breeze. On its wraparound front porch, enjoying lemonade at  the card table, sat Nico di Angelo and Will Solace.

“Dad!” Will shot to his feet. He ran down the steps and  tackled me in a hug.

That’s when I lost it. I wept openly.

My beautiful son, with his kind eyes, his healer’s hands,  his sun-warm demeanor. Somehow, he had inherited all my  best qualities and none of the worst. He guided me up the steps  and insisted I take his seat. He pressed a cold glass of  lemonade into my hands then started fussing over my  wounded head.

“I’m fine,” I murmured, though clearly I wasn’t.

His boyfriend, Nico di Angelo, hovered at the edge of our  reunion—observing, keeping to the shadows, as children of  Hades tend to do. His dark hair had grown longer. He was  barefoot, in tattered jeans and a black version of the camp’s  standard T-shirt, with a skeletal pegasus on the front above the  words CABIN 13.

“Meg,” Nico said, “take my chair. Your leg looks bad.” He  scowled at Dionysus, as if the god should have arranged a golf  cart for us.

“Yes, fine, sit.” Dionysus gestured listlessly at the card  table. “I was attempting to teach Will and Nico the rules of  pinochle, but they’re hopeless.”

“Ooh, pinochle,” Meg said. “I like pinochle!”

Dionysus narrowed his eyes as if Meg were a small dog  who had suddenly begun to spout Emily Dickinson. “Is that  so? Wonders never cease.”

Nico met my gaze, his eyes pools of ink. “So, is it true? Is  Jason…?”

“Nico,” Will chided. “Don’t pressure him.”

The ice cubes shook in my glass. I couldn’t make myself  speak, but my expression must have told Nico everything he  needed to know. Meg offered Nico her hand. He took it in both  of his.

He didn’t look angry, exactly. He looked as if he’d been hit  in the gut not just once but so many times over the course of  so many years that he was beginning to lose perspective on  what it meant to be in pain. He swayed on his feet. He blinked.

Then he flinched, jerking his hands away from Meg’s as if  he’d just remembered his own touch was poison.

“I…” he faltered. “Scusatemi.”

He hurried down the steps and across the lawn, his bare  feet leaving a trail of dead grass.

Will shook his head. “He only slips into Italian when he’s  really upset.”

“The boy has had too much bad news already,” Dionysus  said with a tone of grudging sympathy.

I wanted to ask what he meant about bad news. I wanted to  apologize for bringing more trouble. I wanted to explain all the  tremendous and spectacular ways I had failed since the last  time I had seen Camp Half-Blood.

“Thank you,” I managed. “But where’s, uh…?”

I scanned the crowd for Nico di Angelo, remembering how  he normally sat at Will’s table, regardless of cabin rules.

“Up there,” Will said, apparently guessing my thoughts.  The son of Hades sat next to Dionysus at the head table.  The god’s plate was piled high with pancakes. Nico’s was  empty. They seemed an odd pair, sitting together, but they  appeared to be in a deep and serious conversation. Dionysus  rarely tolerated demigods at his table. If he was giving Nico  such undivided attention, something must be seriously wrong.

I remembered what Mr. D had said yesterday, just before I  passed out. “‘That boy has had too much bad news already,’” I  repeated, then frowned at Will. “What did that mean?”

Will picked at the wrapper of his bran muffin. “It’s  complicated. Nico sensed Jason’s death weeks ago. It sent him  into a rage.”

“I’m so sorry.…”

“It’s not your fault,” Will assured me. “When you got here,  you just confirmed what Nico already knew. The thing is…  Nico lost his sister Bianca a few years back. He spent a long  time raging about that. He wanted to go into the Underworld  to retrieve her, which…I guess, as a son of Hades, he’s really  not supposed to do. Anyway, he was finally starting to come to  terms with her death. Then he learned about Jason, the first  person he really considered a friend. It triggered a lot of stuff  for him. Nico has traveled to the deepest parts of the  Underworld, even down in Tartarus. The fact that he came  through it in one piece is a miracle.”

“With his sanity intact,” I agreed. Then I looked again at  Dionysus, god of madness, who seemed to be giving Nico  advice. “Oh…”

“Yeah,” Will agreed, his face drawn with worry. “They’ve  been eating most meals together, though Nico doesn’t eat  much these days. Nico has been having…I guess you’d call it  post-

traumatic stress disorder. He gets flashbacks. He has waking dreams. Dionysus is trying to help him make sense of it all. The worst part is the voices.”

A dryad slammed a plate of huevos rancheros in front of  me, almost making me jump out of my jeans. She smirked and  walked off, looking quite pleased with herself.

“Voices?” I asked Will.

Will turned up his palms. “Nico won’t tell me much.  Just…someone in Tartarus keeps calling his name. Someone  needs his help. It’s been all I could do to stop him from  storming down into the Underworld by himself. I told him:  Talk to Dionysus first. Figure out what’s real and what’s not.  Then, if he has to go…we’ll go together.”

A rivulet of cold sweat trickled between my shoulder  blades. I couldn’t imagine Will in the Underworld—a place  with no sunshine, no healing, no kindness.

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” I said.

Will nodded. “Maybe if we can take down Nero—maybe  that will give Nico something else to focus on for a while,  assuming we can help you.”

Kayla had been listening quietly, but now she leaned in.  “Yeah, Meg was telling us about this prophecy you got. The  Tower of Nero and all that. If there’s a battle, we want in.”

We went to join Dionysus and Nico at the International  Head-table of Pancakes.

Will sat next to Nico and put an apple on his empty plate.  “Eat something.”

“Hmph,” Nico said, though he leaned into Will ever so  slightly.

Nico caught my gaze across the table. His dark eyes swam  with anger and worry. On his plate, the apple started to wither.

Will squeezed his hand. “Hey, stop.”

Nico’s expression softened a bit. The apple stopped its  premature slide into old age. “Sorry. I just—I’m tired of  talking about problems I can’t fix. I want to help.”

He said help as if it meant chop our enemies into small  pieces.

Nico di Angelo wasn’t physically imposing like Sherman  Yang. He didn’t have Reyna Ramírez-Arellano’s air of  authority, or Hazel Levesque’s commanding presence when  she charged into battle on horseback. But Nico wasn’t  someone I would ever want as an enemy.

He was deceptively quiet. He appeared anemic and frail. He kept himself on the periphery. But Will was right about how much Nico had been through. He had been born in Mussolini’s Italy. He had survived decades in the time-warp reality of the Lotus Casino. He’d emerged in modern times disoriented and culture-shocked, arrived at Camp Half-Blood, and promptly lost his sister Bianca to a dangerous quest. He had wandered the Labyrinth in self-imposed exile, being tortured and brainwashed by a malevolent ghost. He’d overcome everyone’s distrust and

emerged from the Battle of Manhattan as a hero. He’d been captured by giants during the rise of Gaea. He’d wandered Tartarus alone and somehow managed to come out alive. And through it all, he’d struggled with his upbringing as a conservative Catholic Italian male from the 1930s and finally learned to accept himself as a young gay man.

Anyone who could survive all that had more resilience  than Stygian iron.

“We do need your help,” I promised. “Meg told you about  the prophetic verses?”

“Meg told Will,” Nico said. “Will told me. Terza rima.  Like in Dante. We had to study him in elementary school in  Italy. Gotta say, I never thought it would come in handy.”

Will poked at his bran muffin. “Just so I’m clear…You got  the first stanza from a Cyclops’s armpit, the second from a  two-headed snake, and the third from three old ladies who  drive a taxi?”

“We didn’t have much choice in the matter,” I said. “But  yes.”

“Does the poem ever end?” Will asked. “If the rhyme  scheme interlocks stanza to stanza, couldn’t it keep going  forever?”

I shuddered. “I hope not. Usually the last stanza would  include a closing couplet, but we haven’t heard one yet.”

“Which means,” Nico said, “that there are more stanzas to  come.”

“Yippee.” Meg shoved more pancake in her mouth.  Dionysus matched her with a mouthful of his own, as if  they were engaged in a competition to see who could devour  the most and enjoy it the least.

“Well, then,” Will said with forced cheerfulness, “let’s  discuss the stanzas we have. What was it—The tow’r of Nero  two alone ascend? That part is obvious enough. It must mean  Apollo and Meg, right?”

Nico tilted his head. “Even if you do surrender, what  makes you think Nero will honor his word? If he’s gone to all  the trouble to rig enough Greek fire to burn down New York,  why wouldn’t he just do it anyway?”

“If Lu is telling the truth,” Will was saying, “and if Nero  still trusts her—”

“And if she can break you out,” Nico added, “and if you  can destroy the fasces before Nero burns down the city…  That’s a lot of ifs. I don’t like scenarios with more than one if.”

“Like I might take you out for pizza this weekend,” Will  offered, “if you’re not too annoying.”

“Exactly.” Nico’s smile was a bit of winter sun breaking  between snow flurries. “So assuming you guys go through  with this crazy plan, what are we supposed to do?”

Meg belched. “It’s right there in the prophecy. The son-ofHades thing.”

Nico’s face clouded over. “What son-of-Hades thing?”

Will developed a sudden interest in his bran muffin’s  wrapper. Nico seemed to realize, at the same time I did, that  Will hadn’t shared all the lines of the prophecy with him.

“William Andrew Solace,” Nico said, “do you have  something to confess?”

“I was going to mention it.” Will looked at me pleadingly,  as if he couldn’t make himself say the lines.

“The son of Hades, cavern-runners’ friend,” I recited.  “Must show the secret way unto the throne.”

Nico scowled with such intensity I feared he might make  Will wither like the apple. “You think that might have been  good to mention sooner?”

“Hold on,” I said, partly to spare Will from Nico’s wrath,  and partly because I had been racking my brain, trying to think  who these “cavern-runners” might be, and I still had no clue.  “Nico, do you know what those lines mean?”

Nico nodded. “The cavern-runners are…new friends of  mine.”

“They’re hardly friends,” Will muttered.

“They’re experts on subterranean geography,” Nico said.  “I’ve been talking to them about…other business.”

“Which is not good for your mental health,” Dionysus  added in a singsong voice.

Nico gave him a death-to-apples look. “If there is a secret  way into Nero’s tower, they might know it.”

Will shook his head. “Every time you visit them…” He let  his statement die, but the concern in his voice was as jagged as  broken glass.

“Then come with me this time,” Nico said. “Help me.”

Will’s expression was miserable. I could tell he desperately  wanted to protect Nico, to help him any way he could. He also  desperately did not want to visit these cavern-runners.

“Who are they?” Meg said, between bites of pancake. “Are  they horrible?”

“Yes,” Will said.

“No,” Nico said.

“Well, that’s settled, then,” Dionysus said. “Since Mr. di  Angelo seems intent on ignoring my mental-health advice and  going on this quest—”

“That’s not fair,” Nico protested. “You heard the prophecy.  I have to.”

“The whole concept of ‘have to’ is strange to me,”  Dionysus said, “but if your mind is made up, you’d best get  going, eh? Apollo only has until tomorrow night to surrender,  or fake-surrender, or whatever you wish to call it.”

“Anxious to get rid of us?” Meg asked.

Dionysus laughed. “And people say there are no stupid  questions. But if you trust your friend Lululemon—”

“Luguselwa,” Meg growled.

“Whatever. Shouldn’t you hurry back to her?”

Nico folded his arms. “I’ll need some time before we  leave. If I want to ask my new friends a favor, I can’t show up  empty-handed.”

“Oh, ick,” Will said. “You’re not going to…”

Nico raised an eyebrow at him, like, Really, boyfriend?  You’re already in the doghouse.

Will sighed. “Fine. I’ll go with you to…gather supplies.”

Nico nodded. “That’ll take us most of the day. Apollo,  Meg, how about you stay at camp and rest up for now? The  four of us can leave for the city first thing tomorrow morning.  That should still give us enough time.”

“But…” My voice faltered.  I wanted to protest, but I wasn’t sure on what grounds.  Only a day at Camp Half-Blood before our final push toward  destruction and death? That wasn’t nearly enough time to  procrastinate! “I, uh…I thought a quest had to be formally  authorized.”

“I formally authorize it,” Dionysus said.

“But it can only be three people!” I said.

Dionysus looked at Will, Nico, and me. “I’m only counting  three.”

After breakfast, Nico refused to share any more  information about the mysterious cave-runners. “You’ll find  out tomorrow” was all he said.

When I asked Will, he clammed up and looked so sad I  didn’t have the heart to press him.

Will and Nico exchanged looks.

“I guess he figured we won’t need a ride back,” Will said.

“We won’t,” Nico said darkly. “Come on.”

He led us to the main gates—huge panels of corrugated  steel without any obvious opening mechanism or even an  intercom. I suppose if you had to ask, you couldn’t afford to  go in.

Nico stood there and waited.

Nico drifted to the easels. “These are amazing.” He traced  the air, following the swirls of Rachel’s paint across the  canvas.

“Eh, thanks,” Rachel said absently. “Just warm-ups,  really.”

Rachel managed a smile. “Help yourself, Meg. And, hey,  di Angelo”—she pushed him playfully away from the canvas  he’d been ogling—“don’t brush against the art! I don’t care  about the paintings, but if you get any color on you, you’ll ruin  that whole black-and-white aesthetic you’ve got going.”

“Hmph,” said Nico.

“That would be a very bad idea,” Nico said.

Meg frowned. “Do you hate cows?”

“I don’t hate—” Nico paused. “Well, okay, I’m not super  fond of cows. But that’s not the point. Those can’t be ordinary  animals.” He glanced at Rachel. “You said they just appeared.  People don’t recognize they exist. You said the cattle were  watching?”

She glanced at Will, Nico, Meg, who all shook their heads.

“Well,” Rachel said, “you’ll have to take my word for it.  There’s a big mansion over there. Lots of weird goings-on.”

We didn’t argue with her. Though fully mortal, Rachel had  the rare gift of clear sight. She could see through the Mist and  other magical barriers better than most demigods, and  apparently better than most Lesters.

She muttered, “Once I saw a penguin waddling around  their back deck—”

“A what-now?” Nico asked.

“But leaving cows in boxes like that for days without food  or water, that seems like something different,” she said.  “Crueler. Those cows must be bad news.”

Meg scowled. “They seem peaceful enough now. I still say  we free them.”

“And then what?” Nico asked. “Even if they’re not  dangerous, we just let three carloads of cattle wander around  Brooklyn? I’m with Rachel. Something about this…” He  looked like he was trying to dredge something from his  memory with no luck—another feeling I knew well. “I say we  leave them alone.”

“That’s mean!” said Meg. “We can’t—”

“Friends, please.” I stepped between Nico and Meg before  things escalated into the biggest Hades/Demeter smackdown  since Persephone’s wedding shower. “Since the cattle seem to  be calm at the moment, let’s circle back to that subject after  we’ve discussed what we came here to discuss, yes?”

“Did you find the exact location of Nero’s fasces?” Nico  interrupted. “Because that would be really useful.”

Rachel straightened a bit. “I think so, yeah. These are the  original designs for Nero’s tower. They were not easy to get.”

Will whistled appreciatively. “I bet many Bothans died to  bring us this information.”

Rachel stared at him. “What?”

Nico sighed. “I’m guessing that was a Star Wars reference.  My boyfriend is a Star Wars geek of the worst kind.”

“Okay, Signor Myth-o-magic. If you would just watch the  original trilogy…” Will looked at the rest of us for support and  found nothing but blank expressions. “Nobody? Oh, my gods.  You people are hopeless.”

“Besides,” Nico said, “you have actual blueprints.” He  studied the floor plan. “Why would Nero keep his prisoners on  the same level as his most valuable possession, though?”

Nico scowled at the blueprints, as if he might intimidate  them into giving up their secrets. “So, whatever the guardian  is, Nero trusts it with his life. Meg, I thought you said  Luguselwa was this huge, mighty warrior?”

“She is.”

“So why can’t she take out this guardian and destroy the  fasces herself?” he asked. “Why does she need…you know,  you guys to get yourself captured?”

Nico phrased the question diplomatically, but I heard what  he meant. If Lu couldn’t take out this guardian, how could I,  Lester Papadopoulos, the Not So Huge or Mighty?

“Dunno,” Meg said. “But there must be a reason.”

Like Lu would rather see us get killed, I thought, but I  knew better than to say that.

“Let’s assume Lu is right,” Nico said. “You get captured  and put in this cell. She lets you out. You kill the guardian,  destroy the fasces, weaken Nero, hooray. Even then, and I’m  sorry to be a Debbie Downer—”

“I am calling you Debbie Downer from now on,” Will said  gleefully.

“Shut up, Solace. Even then, you’ve got half a tower and  Nero’s whole army of security guards between you and his  throne room, right?”

“We’ve dealt with whole armies before,” Meg said.

Nico laughed, which I didn’t know he was capable of.  “Okay. I like the confidence. But wasn’t there that little detail  about Nero’s panic switch? If he feels threatened, he can blow  up New York at the push of a button. How do you stop that?”

“Oh…” Rachel muttered a curse not appropriate for  priestesses. “That must be what these are for.”  Her hands trembling, she flipped to another page of the  blueprints.

“I asked my dad’s senior architect about them,” she said.  “He couldn’t figure them out. Said there’s no way the  blueprints could be right. Sixty feet underground, surrounded  by triple retaining walls. Giant vats, like the building has its  own reservoir or water-treatment facility. It’s connected to the  city’s sewer mains, but the separate electrical grid, the  generators, these pumps…It’s like the whole system is  designed to blast water outward and flood the city.”

“Except not with water,” Will said. “With Greek fire.”

“Debbie Downer,” Nico muttered.

“Unless,” Nico said, “you tunneled your way into those  reservoirs from underneath. You could sabotage his whole  delivery system without Nero ever knowing.”

“Aaand we’re back to that terrible idea,” Will said.

“They’re the best tunnelers in the world,” Nico insisted.  “They could get through all that concrete and steel and  Celestial bronze with no one even noticing. This is our part of  the plan, Will. While Apollo and Meg are getting themselves  captured, keeping Nero distracted, we go underground and  take out his doomsday weapon.”

“Hold on, Nico,” I said. “It’s high time you explained who  these cave-runners are.”

The son of Hades fixed his dark eyes on me as if I were another layer of concrete to dig

through. “A few months ago, I made contact with the troglodytes.”

I choked on a laugh. Nico’s claim was the most ridiculous  thing I’d heard since Mars swore to me that Elvis Presley was  alive on, well, Mars.

“Troglodytes are a myth,” I said.

Nico frowned. “A god is telling a demigod that something  is a myth?”

“Oh, you know what I mean! They aren’t real. That trashy  author Aelian made them up to sell more copies of his books  back in ancient Rome. A race of subterranean humanoids who  eat lizards and fight bulls? Please. I’ve never seen them. Not  once in my millennia of life.”

“Did it ever occur to you,” Nico said, “that troglodytes  might go out of their way to hide from a sun god? They hate  the light.”

“Well, I—”

“Did you ever actually look for them?” Nico persisted.

“Well, no, but—”

“They’re real,” Will confirmed. “Unfortunately, Nico  found them.”

I tried to process this information. I’d never taken Aelian’s  stories about the troglodytes seriously. To be fair, though, I  hadn’t believed in rocs, either, until the day one flew over my  sun chariot and bowel-bombed me. That was a bad day for me,  the roc, and several countries that my swerving chariot set on  fire.

“If you say so. But do you know how to find the  troglodytes again?” I asked. “Do you think they would help  us?”

“Those are two different questions,” Nico said. “But I  think I can convince them to help. Maybe. If they like the gift I  got them. And if they don’t kill us on sight.”

“I love this plan,” Will grumbled.

Nico got up and ran to the windows. Meg scrambled over  to help me with Rachel. Will checked her pulse and started to  say, “We need to get her—”

“Hey!” Nico turned from the window, his face pale with  shock. “We have to get out of here now. The cows are  attacking.”

Will picked up Rachel in a firefighter’s carry—for a gentle  healer, he was deceptively strong—and together we jogged  over to join Nico at the window.

“Fighting would be no use,” I said miserably. “Those are  tauri silvestres—forest bulls, the Romans called them. Their  hides cannot be pierced. According to legend, the tauri are  ancestral enemies of Nico’s friends, the troglodytes.”

“So now you believe the trogs exist?” Nico asked.

“I am learning to believe in all sorts of things that can kill  me!”

The first wave of cattle reached the Dares’ retaining wall.  They plowed through it and charged the house.

“We need to run!” I said, exercising my noble duty as Lord  Obvious of Duh.

Nico led the way. Will followed close behind with Rachel  still draped over his shoulder, Meg and me at his back.

“Cows,” Rachel said.

“Yeah,” Nico agreed.

Will, Nico, and I scrambled into action. We found no keys  in the cars—that would have been too convenient. No keys on  the wall hooks, in the storage bins, or on the shelves. Either  Mr. Dare kept the keys with him at all times, or the Ferraris  were meant to be purely decorative.

“There!” Nico yelled. “Follow me!”

He sprinted into the lead.

I had to give him credit. When Nico chose a pit, he went  for broke. He ran to the luxury-apartment construction site,  summoned his black Stygian sword from thin air, and slashed  through the chain-link fence. We followed him inside, where a  narrow rim of trailers and portable potties surrounded a fiftyfoot-deep square crater. A giant crane rose from the center of  the chasm, its jib extending toward us at just about knee-level.  The site seemed abandoned. Perhaps it was lunch hour?  Perhaps all the workers were at the pineapple matcha café?  Whatever the case, I was glad not to have mortals in the way  of danger.

(Look at me, caring about innocent bystanders. The other  Olympians would have teased me mercilessly.)

“Nico,” Rachel said, “this is more of a canyon.”

“It’s all we’ve got!” Nico ran to the edge of the pit…and  jumped.

My heart felt like it jumped with him. I may have  screamed.

Nico sailed over the abyss and landed on the crane’s arm  without even stumbling. He turned and extended his arm.  “Come on! It’s only like eight feet. We practice bigger jumps  at camp over lava!”

“Maybe you do,” I said.

The ground shook. The herd was right behind us.

Will backed up, took a running leap, and landed next to  Nico. He looked back at us with a reassuring nod. “See? It’s  not that bad! We’ll grab you!”

“Wow,” Nico said. “Hard head.”

“It’s the entire hide,” I told him. “Look.”

“Maybe not.” Nico stared into the chasm like he was  calculating how many bodies could be buried in it. “I see some  good shadows down there. If we can reach the bottom safely…  How do you all feel about shadow-travel?”

I loved the idea. I was in favor of any kind of  travel that would get us away from the tauri. I would have  even summoned the Gray Sisters again, except I doubted their  taxi would appear on a crane jib, and if it did, I suspected the  sisters would instantly fall in love with Nico and Will because  they were so cute together. I wouldn’t wish that kind of  attention on anyone.

At last we reached the crane’s central mast. Nico led us  down the rungs of the ladder. My limbs shook with  exhaustion. I was tempted to ask Meg if she could create  another latticework of plants to carry us to the bottom like  she’d done at Sutro Tower. I decided against it, because 1) I  didn’t want her to pass out from the effort, and 2) I really  hated being tossed around by plants.

By the time we reached the ground, I felt wobbly and  nauseated.

Nico didn’t look much better. How he planned to summon e nough energy to shadow-zap us to safety, I couldn’t imagine.  Above us, around the rim of the pit, the tauri watched in  silence, their blue eyes gleaming like a string of angry  Hanukkah lights.

Meg studied them warily. “Nico, how soon can you  shadow us out?”

“Catch…my…breath…first,” he said between gulps of air.

“Please,” Will agreed. “If he’s too tired, he might teleport  us into a vat of Cheez Whiz in Venezuela.”

“Okay…” said Nico. “We didn’t end up in the vat.”

“Pretty close,” Will said. “Definitely in the middle of  Venezuela’s biggest Cheez Whiz processing plant.”

“That was one time,” Nico grumbled.

“Great,” Meg said. “Nico, shadow-travel. Now.”

Nico winced. “I can’t take all of you at once! Two plus me  is pushing it. Last summer, with the Athena Parthenos…That  almost killed me, and I had Reyna’s help.”

The bull charged.

“Take Will and Rachel,” I said, hardly believing the words  were coming out of my mouth. “Return for Meg and me when  you can.”

Nico started to protest.

“Apollo’s right!” Meg said. “Go!”

Just as Cow the First lowered its horns and charged, a hand  grabbed my shoulder.

Nico di Angelo’s voice said, “Gotcha.”

And the world turned cold and dark.

“I’ll be fine,” Rachel said, then explained for my benefit:  “I managed to stumble into the wall when we teleported here.”

Nico looked sheepish. “Sorry about that.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Rachel said. “Better than  being trampled.”

“Guess so,” he said. “Once we…”

Nico’s eyelids fluttered. His pupils rolled up in his head  and he slumped against Will’s shoulder. It might have been a  clever ploy to fall into his boyfriend’s arms—I had used the  catch me, handsome fainting trick a few times myself—but  since Nico immediately began to snore, I decided he was not  faking.

“That’s night-night for Nico.” Will pulled a travel pillow  from his supply bag, which I suspected he carried just for  these occasions. He eased the son of Hades into a comfortable  sleeping position, then gave us a weary smile. “He’ll need  about half an hour to recover. Until then, we might as well  make ourselves comfortable.”

On the bright side, I’d had plenty of experience getting  comfortable in sewers, and Nico had shadow-traveled us to the  New York drainage system’s equivalent of the presidential  suite.

“Nico does.” Will’s eye twitched. “Although he’s not  going to take us out so much as down.”

“Er, no,” Will said. “You remember how Nico and I went  hunting for a gift for the trogs? Well—”

Nico snorted and began to stir. “Wh-what—?”

“It’s okay,” Will reassured him. “You’re with friends.”

“Friends?” Nico sat up, bleary-eyed.

“Friends.” Will gave us a warning look, as if suggesting  we shouldn’t startle Nico with any sudden moves.

I gathered Nico was a grumpy napper like his father, Hades. Wake up Hades prematurely and

you were likely to end up as a nuclear-blast shadow on his bedroom wall. Nico rubbed his eyes and frowned at me. I tried to look harmless.

“Apollo,” he said. “Right. I remember.”

“Good,” Will said. “But you’re still groggy. Have a Kit  Kat.”

“Yes, doctor,” Nico muttered.

We waited while Nico refreshed himself with chocolate  and a swig of nectar.

“Better.” He rose, still looking wobbly. “Okay, everybody.  I’m going to lead you into the troglodyte caverns. Keep your  hands away from your weapons at all times. Let me go first  and do the talking. The troglodytes can be a little…jumpy.”

“By jumpy,” Will said, “Nico means likely to murder us  with no provocation.”

“That’s what I said.” Nico popped the last of his Kit Kat in  his mouth. “Ready? Let’s do this.”

“This is it,” Nico said.

He led us to the base of the stalagmite. An opening had  been chipped away in the floor just big enough for someone to  crawl through. Handholds had been carved into the side of the  stalagmite, extending down into the darkness.

“Is this part of the Labyrinth?” I asked.

The place had a similar feel. The air coming from below  was warm and somehow alive, like the breath of a sleeping  leviathan. I had the sense that something was monitoring our  progress—something intelligent and not necessarily friendly.

Nico shook his head. “Please don’t mention the Labyrinth.  The trogs detest Daedalus’s maze. They call it shallow. From  here on down is all trog-built. We’re deeper than the Labyrinth  has ever gone.”

“Awesome,” Meg said.

“You can go ahead of me, then,” I said.

We followed Nico down the side of the stalagmite into a  massive natural cavern. I couldn’t see the edges, or even the  bottom, but from the echoes I could tell it was bigger than my  old temple at Didyma. (Not to brag about temple size, but that  place was HUGE.)

“You guys stay behind me,” Nico said. “Will, can you do  your thing? The barest minimum, please.”

“Wait,” I said. “What is Will’s ‘thing’?”

Will kept his focus on Nico. “Do I have to?”

“We can’t use our weapons for light,” Nico reminded him.

“And we’ll need a little bit more, because the trogs don’t need  any. I’d rather be able to see them.”

Will wrinkled his nose. “Fine.” He set down his pack and stripped off his linen overshirt, leaving just his tank top. I still had no idea what he was doing, though the girls didn’t seem to mind letting him do his thing. Did Will keep a concealed flashlight in his undershirt? Was he going to provide

light by rubbing lichen on himself and smiling brilliantly?

Whatever the case, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see the trogs.

I vaguely recalled a British Invasion band from the 1960s  called the Troggs. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this  subterranean race might all have mop-top hairdos and black  turtlenecks and would use the word groovy a lot. I did not need  that level of horror in my life.

Will took a deep breath. When he exhaled…

I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. We’d been in  near-total darkness so long, I wasn’t sure why Will’s outline  suddenly seemed clearer. I could see the texture of his jeans,  the individual tufts of his hair, the blue of his eyes. His skin  was glowing with a soft, warm golden light as if he’d ingested  sunshine.

“Whoa,” Meg said.

Rachel’s eyebrows floated toward her hairline.

Nico smirked. “Friends, meet my glow-in-the-dark  boyfriend.”

“Could you not make a big deal about it?” Will asked.

I was speechless. How could anyone not make a big deal  about this? As far as demigod powers went, glowing in the  dark was perhaps not as showy as skeleton-summoning or  tomato-vine mastery, but it was still impressive. And, like  Will’s skill at healing, it was gentle, useful, and exactly what  we needed in a pinch.

“I’m so proud,” I said.

Will’s face turned the color of sunlight shining through a  glass of cranberry juice. “Dad, I’m just glowing. I’m not  graduating at the top of my class.”

“I’ll be proud when you do that, too,” I assured him.

“Anyway.” Nico’s lips quivered like he was trying not to  giggle. “I’ll call the cavern-runners now. Everybody stay calm,  okay?”

“Why are they called cavern-runners?” Rachel asked.

Nico held up his hand, indicating Wait or You’re about to  find out.

He faced the darkness and shouted, “Troglodytes! I am  Nico di Angelo, son of Hades! I have returned with four  companions!”

Shuffling and clicking filled the cavern, as if Nico’s voice  had dislodged a million bats. One moment, we were alone.  The next moment, an army of troglodytes stood before us as if  they’d materialized out of hyperspace. With unsettling  certainty, I realized they had run here from wherever they’d  been—yards away? miles away?—with speed that rivaled that  of Hermes himself.

Nico’s warnings suddenly made sense to me. These  creatures were so fast they could have killed us before we had  time to draw a breath. If I’d had a weapon in hand, and if I’d  raised it instinctively, accidentally…I would now be the grease  spot formerly known as Lester formerly known as Apollo.

“We see you, Nico di Angelo!” said a trog in a miniature  George Washington costume. His speech was interspersed  with clicks, screeches, and growls, so it actually sounded like  “CLICK. We—grr—see you—SCREEE—Nico—CLICK—di  Angelo—grr.”

George Washingtrog gave us a pointy-toothed grin. “Are  these the sacrifices you promised? The trogs are hungry!”

My life didn't flash before my eyes, but I did  find myself reviewing the past for anything I might have done  to offend Nico di Angelo.

I imagined him saying Yes, these are the sacrifices!, then  taking Will’s hand and skipping away into the darkness while  Rachel, Meg, and I were devoured by an army of costumed,  muddy miniature frogmen.

“These are not the sacrifices,” Nico said, allowing me to  breathe again. “But I have brought you a better offering! I see  you, O great Screech-Bling!”

Nico did not say screech, mind you. He screeched in a way  that told me he’d been practicing Troglodytish. He had a  lovely, ear-piercing accent.

The trogs leaned in, sniffing and waiting, while Nico held  out his hand to Will like gimme.

Will reached into his bag. He pulled out the desiccated  lizard and handed to Nico, who unwrapped it like a holy relic  and held it aloft.

The crowd let out a collective gasp. “Oooh!”

Screech-Bling’s nostrils quivered. I thought his tricorn hat  might pop off his head from excitement. “Is that a—GRR—  five-lined skink—CLICK?”

“It is—GRR,” Nico said. “This was difficult to find, O  Screech-Bling, Wearer of the Finest Hats.”

Screech-Bling licked his lips. He was drooling all over his  cravat. “A rare gift indeed. We often find Italian wall lizards in  our domain. Turtles. Wood frogs. Rat snakes. Occasionally, if  we are very lucky, a pit viper.”

“Tasty!” shrieked a trog in the back. “Tasty pit vipers!”

Several other trogs screeched and growled in agreement.

“But a five-lined skink,” Screech-Bling said, “is a delicacy  we seldom see.”

“My gift to you,” Nico said. “A peace offering in hope of  friendship.”

“For this great gift,” he continued, “we will not kill and eat  you, Nico di Angelo, even though you are Italian, and we  wonder if you might taste as good as an Italian wall lizard!”

Nico bowed his head. “That is very kind.”

“We will also generously refrain from eating your  companions”—a few of Screech-Bling’s shareholders  muttered, “Aww, what?”—“though it is true that, like you,  they do not wear hats, and no hatless species can be  considered civilized.”

Rachel and Meg looked alarmed, probably because  Screech-Bling was still drooling profusely as he talked about not eating us. Or perhaps they were thinking about all the great  hats they could have worn if they’d only known.

Glow-in-the-dark Will gave us a reassuring nod and  mouthed, It’s cool. Apparently, the giving of a gift, followed  by the promise of not killing and eating your guests, was  standard troglodyte diplomatic protocol.

“We see your generosity, O Screech-Bling!” Nico said. “I  would propose a pact between us—an agreement that would  produce many hats for us all, as well as reptiles, fine clothing,  and rocks.”

Screech-Bling had given us a guest tent and a cold fire pit  and told us to make ourselves at home while he saw to dinner  preparations. Or rather, he’d told Nico to make himself at  home. The CEO kept eyeing Rachel, Meg, and me like we  were sides of beef hanging in a shop window. As for Will, the  troglodytes seemed to ignore him. My best guess: because  Will glowed, they considered him simply a moveable light  source, as if Nico had brought along his own pot of luminous  mushrooms. Judging from Will’s scowl, he did not appreciate  this.

Meg busied herself collecting spores from the nearby  mushroom pots, which she seemed to consider the coolest  thing since snake-eating. Will and Nico sat on the other side of  the fire pit having a tense discussion. I couldn’t hear the  words, but from their facial expressions and hand gestures, I  got the gist:

Will: Worry, worry, worry.

Nico: Calm down, probably won’t die.

Will: Worry. Trogs. Dangerous. Yikes.

Nico: Trogs good. Nice hats.

Or something along those lines.

We all began to rise, but the chef stopped us with a sweep  of his ladle. “Only Nico, the Italian wall lizard—um, SQUEAK —I mean the Italian son of Hades. The rest of you will wait  here until dinner.”

His gleaming eyes seemed to add, When you may or may  not be on the menu!

Nico squeezed Will’s hand. “It’ll be fine. Back soon.”  Then he and the chef were gone. In exasperation, Will  threw himself down on his fireside mat and put his backpack  over his face, reducing our Will-glow illumination by about  fifty percent.

“Is to distract the emperor from what Nico, Will, and I will  be doing, hopefully, with the trogs’ help: disabling the Greekfire vats. But you’ll need to give Nero another incentive to  keep him from pushing that button the minute you surrender.  Otherwise we’ll never have time to sabotage his doomsday  weapon, no matter how fast the trogs can run or dig.”

Nico and Will sat on Screech-Bling’s right. Nico sported a top hat, which worked well with his black-and-white aesthetic. Will, my poor boy, had been given a lampshade. No respect for the

light-bringers of the world.

Nico tipped his fine top hat. “I see the honor you give us.  Thank you, CEO Screech-Bling, for not eating us, and also  speaking in our tongue.”

Screech-Bling nodded with a smug expression that said,  No problem, kid. We’re just awesome that way. “The Italian  wall lizard has told us many things!”

A board member standing behind him, the one with the  cowboy hat, whispered in his ear.

“I mean the Italian son of Hades!” Screech-Bling  corrected. “He has explained the evil plans of Emperor Nero!”

The trogs muttered and hissed. Apparently, Nero’s infamy  had spread even to the deepest dwelling corporations of hatwearers. Screech-Bling pronounced the name Nee-ACK-row,  with a sound in the middle like a cat being strangled, which  seemed appropriate.

“The son of Hades wishes our help!” said Screech-Bling.  “The emperor has vats of fire-liquid. Many of you know the  ones I speak of. Loud and clumsy was the digging when they  installed those vats. Shoddy the workmanship!”

“Shoddy!” agreed many of the trogs.

“Soon,” said the CEO, “Nee-ACK-row will unleash  burning death across the Crusty Crust. The son of Hades has  asked our help to dig to these vats and eat them!”

“You mean disable them?” Nico suggested.

“Yes, that!” Screech-Bling agreed. “Your language is crude  and difficult!”

“It’s not just crust-dwellers,” Nico was saying, his tone  remarkably calm. “Lizards, skinks, frogs, snakes…Your food  supply will burn.”

This caused some uneasy mumbling, but I sensed that the  trogs were still not swayed. They might have to range as far as  New Jersey or Long Island to gather their reptiles. They might  have to live on breadsticks for a while. But so what? The  threat wasn’t critical to their lives or their stock prices.

“What about hats?” Will asked. “How many  haberdasheries will burn if we don’t stop Nero? Dead  haberdashers cannot make trog haberdashery.”

More grumbling, but clearly this argument wasn’t enough,  either.

With a growing sense of helplessness, I realized that we  wouldn’t be able to convince the troglodytes by appealing to  their self-interest. If only a few hundred of them existed, why  should they gamble their own lives by tunneling into Nero’s  doomsday reservoir? No god or corporation would accept that  level of risk.

Before I realized what I was doing, I had risen to my feet.  “Stop! Hear me, troglodytes!”

The crowd grew dangerously still. Hundreds of large  brown eyes fixed on me.

One trog whispered, “Who is that?”

His companion whispered back, “Don’t know, but he can’t  be important. He’s wearing a Mets hat.”

Nico gave me an urgent sit-down-before-you-get-us-killed  look.

“Friends,” I said, “this is not about reptiles and hats.”

The trogs gasped. I had just implied that two of their  favorite things were no more important than crust-dweller  lives.

I forged ahead. “The trogs are civilized! But what makes a  people civilized?”

“Hats!” yelled one.

“Language!” yelled another.

“Soup?” inquired a third.

“You can see,” I said. “That is how you greeted us. You  saw the son of Hades. And I don’t mean just seeing with your  eyes. You see value, and honor, and worthiness. You see things  as they are. Is this not true?”

The trogs nodded reluctantly, confirming that, yes, in terms  of importance, seeing was probably up there with reptiles and  hats.

“You’re right about the crust-dwellers being blind,” I  admitted. “In many ways, they are. So was I, for centuries.”

“Centuries?” Click-Wrong leaned away as if realizing I  was well past my expiration date. “Who are you?”

“I was Apollo,” I said. “God of the sun. Now I am a mortal  named Lester.”

No one seemed awed or incredulous—just confused.  Someone whispered to a friend, “What’s a sun?” Another  asked, “What’s a Lester?”

“I thought I knew all the races of the world,” I continued,  “but I didn’t believe troglodytes existed until Nico brought me  here. I see your importance now! Like you, I once thought  crust-dwellers’ lives were common and unimportant. I have  learned otherwise. I would like to help you see them as I have.  Their value has nothing to do with hats.”

Screech-Bling narrowed his large brown eyes. “Nothing to  do with hats?”

“If I may?” As nonthreateningly as I could, I brought out  my ukulele.

Nico’s expression changed from urgency to despair, like I  had signed our death warrants. I was used to such silent  criticism from his father. Hades has zero appreciation for the  fine arts.

Nico closed his eyes, as if saying his final prayers. Will  glowed quietly under his lampshade. Meg gave me a stealthy  thumbs-up, which I did not find encouraging.

“Then I would ask you to take Will and Nico—”

Rachel coughed.

“And Rachel,” I added, hoping I was not sentencing my  favorite priestess to die in a pith helmet. “Meanwhile, Meg  and I must go to the emperor’s front door so we can  surrender.”

“I see you, O Grr-Fred,” Nico said, “Mighty of Hats,  Corporate Security Chief! You are right to be wary, but  Apollo’s surrender is a distraction, a trick. He will keep the  emperor’s eyes away from us while we tunnel. If we can fool  the emperor into letting down his guard…”

His voice trailed off. He looked at the ceiling as if he’d  heard something far above.  A heartbeat later, the trogs stirred. They shot to their feet,  overturning soup bowls and breadbaskets. Many grabbed  obsidian knives and spears.

Screech-Bling snarled at Nico. “Tauri silvestres approach!  What have you done, son of Hades?”

Nico looked dumbfounded. “Nothing! W-we fought a herd  on the surface. But we shadow traveled away. There’s no  chance they could’ve—”

“Foolish crust-dwellers!” howled Grr-Fred. “Tauri  silvestres can track their prey anywhere! You have brought our  enemies to our headquarters. Creak-Morris, take charge of the  tunnel-lings! Get them to safety!”

Just as fervently, I hoped Nico, Will, and Rachel had  survived the bulls’ attack. Our friends were resourceful and  brave, yes. Hopefully, they still had the assistance of the  troglodytes. But too often, survival depended on sheer luck.  This was something we gods didn’t like to advertise, as it cut  down on donations at our temples.

“Grr-Fred—?” I started to ask.

“It’s Grr-Fred,” he corrected.

“GRR-Fred?”

“Grr-Fred.”

“gRR-Fred?”

“Grr-Fred!”

You would think, with my musical skills, I would be better  at picking up the nuances of languages, but apparently, I did  not have Nico’s panache for Troglodytish.

I worried about Luguselwa, who must have been facing the leontocephaline by now. I worried about Nico, Will, and Rachel, whom I hadn’t seen any sign of in my dreams. I worried about the forces of Camp Half-Blood, who might be charging into a suicidal rescue mission at this very moment. Most of all, I worried about Meg.

He raised his sword…and froze. His face turned pale. His skin began to shrivel. His beard fell out whisker by whisker like dead pine needles. Finally, his skin crumbled away, along with his clothes and flesh, until Leader Guy was nothing but a bleached-white skeleton, holding a sword in his bony hands.

Standing behind him, his hand on the skeleton’s shoulder, was Nico di Angelo.

“That’s better,” Nico said. “Now stand down.”

The skeleton obeyed, lowering its sword and stepping away from me. The technicians whimpered in terror. They were mortals, so I wasn’t sure what they thought they’d just seen, but it was nothing good.

Nico looked at them. “Run away.”

They fell all over each other to comply. They couldn’t run very well with arrows in their feet, but they were out the door faster than you could say, Holy Hades, that dude just turned Leader Guy into a skeleton.

Nico frowned down at me. “You look awful.”

I laughed weakly, bubbling snot. “I know, right?”

My sense of humor didn’t seem to reassure him.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Nico said. “This whole building is a combat zone, and our job isn’t done.”

As Nico helped me to my feet, Leader Guy collapsed into a pile of bones. I guess controlling an animated skeleton while hauling my sorry butt off the floor was too much effort even for Nico.

He was surprisingly strong. I had to lean against him with most of my weight since the room was still spinning, my face was throbbing, and I was still suffering from a bout of neardeath giggles.

“Where—where’s Will?” I asked.

“Not sure.” Nico pulled my arm tighter around his shoulders. “He suddenly said, ‘I am needed,’ and darted off in another direction. We’ll find him.” Nico sounded worried nonetheless. “What about you? How exactly did you…uh, do all this?”

I suppose he was talking about the piles of ash and rice, the broken chairs and control panels, and the blood of my enemies decorating the walls and the carpet. I tried not to laugh like a lunatic. “Just lucky?”

“Nobody’s that lucky. I think your godly powers are starting to come back more. Like, a lot more.”

“Yay!” My knees buckled. “Where’s Rachel?”

Nico grunted, trying to keep me on my feet. “She was fine last I saw her. She’s the one who sent me here to get you— she’s been having visions like crazy for the last day now. She’s with the trogs.”

“We have trogs! Whee!” I leaned my head against Nico’s and sighed contentedly. His hair smelled like rain against stone…a pleasant scent.

“Are you smelling my head?” he asked.

“Um—”

“Could you not? You’re getting nose blood all over me.”

“Sorry.” Then I laughed again.

Wow, I thought distantly. That kick to the face must have rattled my brain loose.

Nico half dragged me down the corridor as he briefed me on their adventures since the trog encampment. I couldn’t concentrate, and I kept giggling at inappropriate moments, but I gleaned that, yes, the trogs had helped them disable the Greek-fire vats; Rachel had managed to summon help from Camp Half-Blood; and Nero’s tower was now the world’s largest urban-warfare play structure. In return, I told him that Lu now had silverware for hands.  
…

“Huh?”

She had gone to get Nero’s fasces from a leontocephaline.

…

“A what-now?”

And I had to get to the southeast corner of the residence wing to find Meg.

That, at least, Nico understood. “You’re three floors too low.”

“I knew something was wrong!”

“It’ll be tough getting you through all the fighting. Every level is, well…”

We’d reached the end of the hallway. He kicked open a door and we stepped into the Conference Room of Calamity. A half dozen troglodytes bounced around the room fighting an equal number of mortal security guards. Along with their fine clothing and hats, the trogs all wore thick dark goggles to protect their eyes from the light, so they looked like miniature aviators at a costume party. Some guards were trying to shoot them, but the trogs were small and fast. Even when a bullet hit one of them, it simply glanced off their rocklike skin, making them hiss with annoyance. Other guards had resorted to riot batons, which weren’t any more effective. The trogs leaped around the mortals, whacking them with clubs, stealing their helmets, and basically having a grand old time.

My old friend Grr-Fred, Mighty of Hats, Corporate Security Chief, leaped from a light fixture, brained a guard, then landed on the conference table and grinned at me. He’d  
topped his police hat with a new baseball cap that read TRIUMVIRATE HOLDINGS.

“GOOD COMBAT, Lester-Apollo!” He beat his tiny fists against his chest, then ripped a speakerphone from the table  
and threw it in the face of an oncoming guard.

Nico guided me through the chaos. We ducked through another doorway and ran straight into a Germanus, whom Nico impaled with his Stygian iron blade without even breaking stride.

“The Camp Half-Blood landing zone is just ahead,” he told me as if nothing had happened.

“Landing zone?”

“Yeah. Pretty much everybody came to help.”

“Even Dionysus?” I would’ve paid real drachma to watch him turn our enemies into grapes and stomp on them. That was always good for a laugh.

“Well, no, not Mr. D,” Nico said. “You know how it is. Gods don’t fight demigod battles. Present company excepted.”

“I’m an exception!” I kissed the top of Nico’s head in delight.

“Please don’t do that.”

“Okay! Who else is here? Tell me! Tell me!” I felt like he was guiding me toward my own birthday party, and I was dying to know the guest list. Also, I felt like I was dying!

“Um, well…”

We’d arrived at a set of heavy mahogany sliding doors.

Nico dragged one open and the setting sun nearly blinded me. “Here we are now.”

A wide terrace ran along the entire side of the building, providing multimillion-dollar views of the Hudson River and New Jersey cliffs beyond, tinged burgundy in the sunset. The scene on the terrace was even more chaotic than the one in the conference room. Pegasi swooped through the air like giant seagulls, occasionally landing on the deck to unload new demigod reinforcements in orange Camp Half-Blood shirts. Nasty-looking Celestial bronze harpoon turrets lined the rails, but most of them had been blown-up or crushed. Lounge chairs were on fire. Our friends from camp were engaged in close-quarters fighting with dozens of Nero’s forces: a few of the older demigod kids from Nero’s Imperial Household, a squad of Germani, mortal security guards, and even a few cynocephali—wolf-headed warriors with nasty claws and rabid, slavering mouths.

Against the wall stood a line of potted trees, similar to in the throne room. Their dryads had risen up to fight alongside Camp Half-Blood against Nero’s oppression.

“Come, sisters!” cried a ficus spirit, brandishing a pointy stick. “We have nothing to lose but our potting soil!”

In the center of the chaos, Chiron himself clopped back and forth, his white stallion lower half draped with extra quivers, weapons, shields, and water bottles, like a combination demigod soccer mom and minivan. He wielded his bow as well as I ever could have (though that comment should be considered strictly off the record) while shouting encouragement and directions to his young charges. “Dennis, try not to kill enemy demigods or mortals! Okay, well, from now on, then! Evette, watch your left flank! Ben—whoa, watch out there, Ben!” This last comment was directed at a young man in a handpowered wheelchair, his muscular upper body clad in a racing shirt, his driving gloves studded with spikes. His wild black hair flew in every direction, and as he turned, blades jutted from the rims of his wheels, mowing down anyone who dared to get close. His last one-eighty had almost caught Chiron’s back legs, but fortunately the old centaur was nimble.

“Sorry!” Ben grinned, seeming not sorry at all, then he wheeled himself straight into a pack of cynocephali.

“Dad!” Kayla came racing toward me. “Oh, gods, what happened to you? Nico, where’s Will?”

“That’s a great question,” Nico said. “Kayla, can you take Apollo while I go look?”

“Yeah, go!”

Nico raced off while Kayla dragged me to the safest corner she could find. She propped me in the only intact chaise longue and began rummaging through her med pack.

I had a lovely view of the sunset and the carnage in progress. I wondered if I could get one of Nero’s servants to bring me a fancy drink decorated with a tiny umbrella. I started to giggle again, though what was left of my common sense whispered, Stop it. Stop it. This is not funny.

Kayla frowned, clearly worried by my mirth. She dabbed some menthol-scented healing ointment on my busted nose.

“Oh, Dad. I’m afraid you’re going to have a scar.”

“I know.” I giggled. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Kayla managed a weak smile. “You, too. Been a crazy afternoon. Nico and those trogs infiltrated the building from below. The rest of us hit the tower on several levels at once, overwhelmed their security. The Hermes cabin disarmed a lot of the traps and turrets and whatnot, but we’ve still got fierce fighting pretty much everywhere.”

I turned to see the impenetrable blast doors lying twisted and broken, a strangely emaciated red bull standing in the breach. Behind it stood Nico di Angelo.

Safe to say, I had not been expecting this kind of party-crasher. Clearly, Nero and his followers hadn’t, either. They stared in amazement as the taurus silvestre lumbered across the threshold. Where the bull’s blue eyes should have been, there were only dark holes. Its shaggy red hide hung loosely over its reanimated skeleton like a blanket. It was an undead thing with no flesh or soul—just the will of its master.

Nico scanned the room. He looked worse than the last time I’d seen him. His face was covered in soot, his left eye swollen shut. His shirt was ripped to shreds, and his black sword dripped with some sort of monster blood. Worst of all, someone (I’m guessing a trog) had forced him to wear a white cowboy hat. I half expected him to say yee-haw in the most unenthusiastic voice ever.

For the benefit of his skeleton bull, he pointed at Nero and said, “Kill that one.”

The bull charged. The followers of Nero went crazy.

Germani rushed the creature like linebackers going after a wide receiver, desperate to stop it before it reached the dais. The cynocephali howled and bounded in our direction. The imperial demigods faltered, looking at each other for direction like, Who do we attack? The bull? The emo kid? Dad? Each other? (This is the problem when you raise your children to be paranoid murderers.)

“Vercorix!” Nero shrieked, his voice a half-octave higher than usual. He leaped onto his couch, madly punching buttons on his Sassanid gas remote control and apparently deciding that it was not, in fact, his Sassanid gas remote control. “Bring me the other controls! Hurry!”

Halfway to the bull, Vercorix stumbled and reversed course for the coffee table, perhaps wondering why he’d taken this promotion and why Nero couldn’t fetch his own stupid remotes.

Meg tugged at my arm, shaking me from my stupor. “Get up!”

She dragged me out of the path of a cynocephalus, who landed next to us on all fours, snarling and slavering. Before I could decide whether to fight him with my bare hands or my bad breath, Nico leaped between us, his sword already in motion. He slashed the wolf-man into dust and dog fur.

“Hey, guys.” Nico’s swollen eye made him look even fiercer than usual. “You should probably find some weapons.”

I tried to remember how to speak. “How did you—? Wait, let me guess. Rachel sent you.”

“Yup.”

Our reunion was interrupted by the second wolf-headed warrior, who loped toward us more cautiously than his fallen comrade, edging sideways and looking for an opening. Nico fended him off with his sword and his scary cowboy hat, but I had a feeling we’d be getting more company soon. Nero himself was still screaming on his sofa while Vercorix fumbled with the tray of remote controls. A few feet away from us, the Germani were piling on top of the skeleton bull. Some of the imperial demigods ran to help them, but three of the more devious members of the family were hanging back, eyeing us, no doubt pondering the best way to kill us so they could get a gold star from Daddy on their weekly chore chart.

“What about the Sassanid gas?” I asked Nico.

“Trogs still working on that.”

I muttered a curse that would not have been appropriate for the ears of a youngster like Meg, except that Meg had taught me this particular curse.

“Has Camp Half-Blood evacuated?” Meg asked. I was relieved to hear her join the conversation. It made me feel like she was still one of us.

Nico shook his head. “No. They’re fighting against Nero’s forces on every floor. We warned everyone about the gas, but they won’t leave until you guys leave.”

I felt a surge of gratitude and exasperation. Those stupid, beautiful Greek demigods, those brave, wonderful fools. I wanted to punch them all and then give them a big hug.

The cynocephalus lunged.

“Go!” Nico told us.

I sprinted toward the entrance where I’d dropped my supplies, Meg right beside me.

Nico was still dueling with the wolf-dude. The zombie bull finally collapsed under the weight of Team Nero, meaning it wouldn’t be long before the Germani came looking for new targets to tackle.

Nico waded through the Germani. They outnumbered him more than ten to one, but they quickly developed a healthy respect for his Stygian iron blade. Even barbarians can master a steep learning curve if it is sharp and painful enough. Nico couldn’t last forever against so many, though, especially since their spears had a longer reach and Nico could only see through his right eye. Vercorix barked at his men, ordering them to surround di Angelo. Unfortunately, the grizzled lieutenant seemed much better at mustering his forces than he was at delivering remote controls.

My real problem was Nero. With Meg and Nico overwhelmed, the emperor had plenty of time to fish through his sofa cushions for remotes. The fact that his blast doors were destroyed did not seem to dampen his enthusiasm for flooding the tower with poison gas. Perhaps, being a minor god, he would be immune. Perhaps he gargled with Sassanid gas every morning.

Nico was losing steam against the Germani. His sword seemed to become ten pounds heavier every time he swung it.

“Nico!” I yelled.

I had no chance of bringing Nero down. Instead, I fired at the Germanus who stood directly between the son of Hades and the throne, blasting the barbarian to nothingness.

Bless his fancy cowboy hat, Nico understood. He charged, breaking out of the ring of Germani and leaping straight for the emperor with all his remaining strength. Nico’s downward slash should have cleaved Nero from head to devil tail, but with his free hand, the emperor grabbed the blade and stopped it cold. The Stygian iron hissed and smoked in his grip. Golden blood trickled from between his fingers. He yanked the blade away from Nico and tossed it across the room. Nico lunged at Nero’s throat, ready to choke him or make him into a Halloween skeleton. The emperor backhanded him with such force the son of Hades flew twenty feet and slammed into the nearest pillar.

“You fools cannot kill me!” Nero roared to the beat of the Bee Gees. “I am immortal!”

He clicked his remote. Nothing obvious happened, but the emperor screeched with delight. “That’s it! That’s the one! All your friends are dead now. HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!”

Meg screamed in outrage. She tried to break out of her circle of attackers, as Nico had done, but one of the demigods tripped her. She crashed face-first onto the carpet. Her borrowed sword clattered from her grip.

I wanted to run to her aid, but I knew I was too far away. Even if I shot the Arrow of Dodona, I couldn’t take down an entire group of demigods.

We had failed. In the tower below, our friends would now be choking to death—the entire camp wiped out with a single click of Nero’s remote.

The Germani hauled Nico to his feet and dragged him before the throne. The imperial demigods pointed their weapons at Meg, now prone and helpless.

“Excellent!” Nero beamed. “But first things first. Guards, kill Apollo!”

The Germani reinforcements barreled toward me.

I fumbled for my ukulele, desperately reviewing my repertoire for a song that would produce a stunning reversal of fortunes. “I Believe in Miracles”? “Make It Right”?

Behind me, a familiar voice roared, “STOP!”

The tone was so commanding even Nero’s guards and family members turned toward the broken blast doors.

On the threshold stood Will Solace, radiating brilliant light. At his left was Luguselwa, alive and well, her stumps now outfitted with daggers instead of silverware. At Will’s right was Rachel Elizabeth Dare, holding a large ax wrapped in a golden bundle of rods: the fasces of Nero.

“No one hits my boyfriend,” Will thundered. “And no one kills my dad!”

Will Solace strode confidently across the room, barking “Out of my way!” to the Germani. He marched straight to Nico and helped the son of Hades to his feet. Then he dragged Nico back to the entrance. No one tried to stop them.

The emperor inched backward on his dais. He put one hand behind him, as if to reassure himself that his sofa was still there in case he needed to faint dramatically. He ignored Will and Nico. His eyes were fixed on Rachel and the fasces.

I stumbled into Luguselwa, who managed to catch me without stabbing me to death. Will, still glowing like an overachieving nightlight, had propped Nico against the wall and was now tending to his wounds. Screech-Bling let out a high-pitched whistle, and more troglodytes poured into the room, charging the emperor’s forces in a flurry of shrieks, mining picks, and stylish headwear.

Trogs swarmed the emperor. He tossed them aside. Germani who didn’t get out of his way fast enough were also thrown into the next time zone. Meg looked like she wanted to challenge Nero herself, but any move away from her foster siblings would have shattered their delicate standoff. Nico was still only half-conscious. Will was busy trying to revive him.

"I was dreaming..." I pointed weakly at Meg. “And you weren’t there. Neither were you, Lu. Or Nico and Will…”

Will and Nico exchanged worried looks, no doubt wondering if I had suffered brain damage.

“I’ll gather some supplies.” Rachel kissed my forehead, then dashed off.

“Bow and quiver coming up,” Nico said.

“And ukulele,” Will added.

Nico winced. “Do we really hate Python that much?”

Will raised an eyebrow.

“Fine.” Nico dashed off without kissing me on the forehead, which was just as well. He couldn’t have reached my forehead with the massive brim of his cowboy hat.

Will did some last-minute bandaging. Nico handed me my weapons. Rachel gave me a new pack stuffed with supplies. But none of them offered any lingering good-byes. They knew every minute counted now. They wished me luck and let me go.

The boys sat comfortably next to each other, Will’s arm around Nico’s shoulder, as the son of Hades twirled a burnt marshmallow on a stick. Next to me, Rachel hugged her knees and stared contentedly at the stars, the dying fire reflecting in her red hair like a charging herd of tauri silvestres.

“Everything’s working again,” she told me, tapping the side of her head. “The visions are clear. I can paint. I’ve issued a couple of prophecies already. No more snake poison in my mind. Thank you.”

“I’m glad,” I said. “And your parents’ destroyed house?”

She laughed. “Turned out to be a good thing. Before, my dad had wanted me to stay around here in the fall. Now, he says maybe it’s a good idea if I do what I wanted to begin with. Gonna take a gap year in Paris to study art while they rebuild the house.”

“Oh, Paris!” Will said.

Rachel grinned. “Right? But don’t worry, I’ll be back here next summer to dish out more oracular awesomeness.”

“And if we need you in the meantime,” Nico said, “there’s always shadow-travel.”

Will sighed. “I’d love to think you’re suggesting a date night in Paris, Mr. Dark Lord. But you’re still thinking about Tartarus, aren’t you? Hoping for some prophetic guidance?”

Nico shrugged. “Unfinished business…”

I frowned. It seemed like so long ago they had mentioned this to me—Nico’s compulsion to explore the depths ofTartarus, the voice he had heard, calling for help. I didn’t want to open fresh wounds, but I asked as gently as I could, “You’re sure it’s not…Jason?”

Nico picked at his blackened marshmallow. “I won’t lie. I’ve wondered about that. I’ve thought about trying to find Jason. But, no, this isn’t about him.” He snuggled a little closer to Will. “I have a sense that Jason made his choice. I wouldn’t be honoring his sacrifice if I tried to undo it. With Hazel…She was just drifting in Asphodel. I could tell she wasn’t supposed to be there. She needed to come back. With Jason, I have a feeling he’s somewhere better now.”

“Like Elysium?” I wondered. “Rebirth?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Nico admitted.

I shook my head. “I’m afraid I’m clueless about after-death matters. But if it’s not Jason you’re thinking about…?”

Nico twirled his s’more stick. “When I was in Tartarus the first time, somebody helped me. And I—we left him down there. I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Should I be jealous?” Will asked.

“He’s a Titan, dummy,” Nico said.

I sat up straight. “A Titan?”

“Long story,” Nico said. “But he’s not a bad guy. He’s… Well, I feel like I should look for him, see if I can figure out what happened. He might need my help. I don’t like it when people are overlooked.”

Rachel bunched up her shoulders. “Hades wouldn’t mind you traipsing down to Tartarus?”

Nico laughed without humor. “He’s expressly forbidden it. After that business with the Doors of Death, he doesn’t want anybody in Tartarus ever again. That’s where the troglodytes come in. They can tunnel anywhere, even there. They can get us in and out safely.”

“Safely being a relative term,” Will noted, “given that the whole idea is bonkers.”

I frowned. I still didn’t like the idea of my sunshiny son skipping off into the land of monster nightmares. My recent tumble to the edge of Chaos had reminded me what a terrible travel destination it was. Then again, it wasn’t my place to tell demigods what to do, especially those I loved the most. I didn’t want to be that kind of god anymore.

“I wish I could offer you help,” I said, “but I’m afraid Tartarus is outside my jurisdiction.”

“It’s okay, Dad,” Will said. “You’ve done your part. No story ever ends, does it? It just leads into others.” He laced his fingers through Nico’s. “We’ll handle whatever comes next. Together. With or without a prophecy—”

I swear I had nothing to do with it. I did not press a button on Rachel’s back. I did not prearrange a surprise gift from Delphic Deliveries.

But as soon as Will said the word prophecy, Rachel went rigid. She inhaled sharply. A green mist rose from the earth, swirling around her and coiling into her lungs. She tipped over sideways while Nico and Will lunged to catch her.

As for me, I scrambled away in a very ungodlike manner, my heart beating like a frightened Lester. I guess all that green gas reminded me too much of my recent quality time with Python.

By the time my panic subsided, the prophetic moment had passed. The gas had dissipated. Rachel lay comfortable on the ground, Will and Nico both standing over her with perturbed looks.

“Did you hear it?” Nico asked me. “The prophecy she whispered?”

“I—I didn’t,” I admitted. “Probably better if…if I let you two figure this one out.”

Will nodded, resigned. “Well, it didn’t sound good.”

“No, I’m sure it didn’t.” I looked down fondly at Rachel Dare. “She’s a wonderful Oracle.”


	14. The Demigod Files

I readied my sword.Thalia drew her bow. Instinctively we stood back to back. A patch of darkness passed over the clearing and a boy tumbled out of it like he’d been tossed, landing in the grass at our feet.

‘Ow,’ he muttered. He brushed off his aviator’s jacket. He was about twelve years old, with dark hair, jeans, a black T-shirt and a silver skull ring on his right hand. A sword hung at his side.

‘Nico?’ I said.

Thalia’s eyes widened. ‘Bianca’s little brother?’

Nico scowled. I doubt he liked being announced as Bianca’s little brother. His sister, a Hunter of Artemis, had died a couple of years ago, and it was still a sore subject for him.

‘Why’d you bring me here?’ he grumbled. ‘One minute I’m in a New Orleans graveyard.The next minute – is this New York? What in Hades’s name am I doing in New York?’

‘We didn’t bring you here,’ I promised. ‘We were –’ A shiver went down my back. ‘We were brought together. All three of us.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Nico demanded.

‘The children of the Big Three,’ I said. ‘Zeus, Poseidon, Hades.’

Thalia took a sharp breath. ‘The prophecy.You don’t think Kronos…’

She didn’t finish the thought. We all knew about the big prophecy: a war was coming, between the Titans and gods, and the next child of the three major gods who turned sixteen would make a decision that saved or destroyed the world.That meant one of us. Over the last few years, the Titan lord Kronos had tried to manipulate each of us separately. Now… could he be plotting something by bringing us all together?

The ground rumbled. Nico drew his own sword – a black blade of Stygian iron. Mrs O’Leary leaped backwards and barked in alarm.

Too late, I realized she was trying to warn me.

The ground opened up under Thalia, Nico and me, and we fell into darkness.

I expected to keep falling forever, or maybe be squashed into a demigod pancake when we hit the bottom.But the next thing I knew,Thalia, Nico and I were standing in a garden, all three of us still screaming in terror, which made me feel pretty silly.

‘What – where are we?’ Thalia asked.

The garden was dark.Rows of silver flowers glowed faintly, reflecting off huge gemstones that lined the planting beds – diamonds, sapphires and rubies the size of footballs.Trees arched over us, their branches covered with orange blooms and sweet-smelling fruit.The air was cool and damp – but not like a New York winter. More like a cave.

‘I’ve been here before,’ I said.

Nico plucked a pomegranate off a tree. ‘My stepmother Persephone’s garden.’ He made a sour face and dropped the fruit. ‘Don’t eat anything.’

He didn’t need to tell me twice. One taste of Underworld food, and we’d never be able to leave.

‘Heads up,’ Thalia warned.

I turned and found her aiming her bow at a tall woman in a white dress.

At first I thought the woman was a ghost. Her dress billowed around her like smoke. Her long dark hair floated and curled as if it were weightless. Her face was beautiful but deathly pale.

Then I realized her dress wasn’t white. It was made of all sorts of changing colours – red, blue and yellow flowers blooming in the fabric – but it was strangely faded. Her eyes were the same way, multicoloured but washed-out, like the Underworld had sapped her life force. I had a feeling that in the world above she would be beautiful, even brilliant.

‘I am Persephone,’ she said, her voice thin and papery. ‘Welcome, demigods.’

Nico squashed a pomegranate under his boot. ‘Welcome? After last time, you’ve got the nerve to welcome me?’

I shifted uneasily, because talking that way to a god can get you blasted into dust bunnies. ‘Um, Nico –’

‘It’s all right,’ Persephone said coldly. ‘We had a little family spat.’

‘Family spat?’ Nico cried. ‘You turned me into a dandelion!’

Persephone ignored her stepson. ‘As I was saying, demigods, I welcome you to my garden.’

Thalia lowered her bow. ‘You sent the golden deer?’

‘And the shadow that collected Nico,’ the goddess admitted. ‘And the hellhound.’

‘You controlled Mrs O’Leary?’ I asked.

Persephone shrugged. ‘She is a creature of the Underworld, Percy Jackson. I merely planted a sugestion in her mind that it would be fun to lead you to the park. It was necessary to bring you three together.’

‘Why?’ I asked.

Persephone regarded me, and I felt like cold little flowers were blooming in my stomach.

‘Lord Hades has a problem,’ she said. ‘And if you know what’s good for you, you will help him.’

We sat on a dark veranda overlooking the garden. Persephone’s handmaidens brought food and drink, which none of us touched.The handmaidens would’ve been pretty except for the fact that they were dead.They wore yellow dresses, with daisy and hemlock wreaths on their heads.Their eyes were hollow, and they spoke in the chittering bat-like voices of shades.

Persephone sat on a silver throne and studied us. ‘If this were spring, I would be able to greet you properly in the world above. Alas, in winter this is the best I can do.’ She sounded bitter. After all these millennia, I guess she still resented living with Hades half the year. She looked so bleached and out-ofplace, like an old photograph of springtime. She turned towards me as if reading my thoughts. ‘Hades is my husband and master, young one. I would do anything for him. But in this case I need your help, and quickly. It concerns Lord Hades’s sword.’

Nico frowned. ‘My father doesn’t have a sword. He uses a staff in battle, and his helm of terror.’

‘He didn’t have a sword,’ Persephone corrected.

Thalia sat up. ‘He’s forging a new symbol of power? Without Zeus’s permission?’

The goddess of springtime pointed. Above the table, an image flickered to life: skeletal weapon-smiths worked over a forge of black flames, using hammers fashioned like metal skulls to beat a length of iron into a blade.

‘War with the Titans is almost upon us,’ Persephone said. ‘My lord Hades must be ready.’

‘But Zeus and Poseidon would never allow Hades to forge a new weapon!’ Thalia protested. ‘It would unbalance their power-sharing agreement.’

Persephone shook her head. ‘You mean it would make Hades their equal? Believe me, daughter of Zeus, the Lord of the Dead has no designs against his brothers. He knew they would never understand, however, which is why he forged the blade in secret.’

The image over the table shimmered. A zombie weapon-smith raised the blade, still glowing hot. Something strange was set in the base – not a gem. More like…

‘Is that a key?’ I asked.

Nico made a gagging sound. ‘The keys of Hades?’

‘Wait,’ Thalia said. ‘What are the keys of Hades?’

Nico’s face looked even paler than his stepmother’s. ‘Hades has a set of golden keys that can lock or unlock death. At least… that’s the legend.’

‘It is true,’ Persephone said.

‘How do you lock and unlock death?’ I asked.

‘The keys have the power to imprison a soul in the Underworld,’ Persephone said. ‘Or to release it.’

Nico swallowed. ‘If one of those keys has been set in the sword –’

‘The wielder can raise the dead,’ Persephone said, ‘or slay any living thing and send its soul to the Underworld with a mere touch of the blade.’

We were all silent.The shadowy fountain gurgled in the corner. Handmaidens floated around us, offering trays of fruit and candy that would keep us in the Underworld forever.

‘That’s a wicked sword,’ I said at last.

‘It would make Hades unstoppable,’ Thalia agreed.

‘So you see,’ Persephone said, ‘why you must help get it back.’

I stared at her. ‘Did you say get it back?’

Persephone’s eyes were beautiful and deadly serious, like poisonous blooms. ‘The blade was stolen when it was almost finished. I do not know how, but I suspect a demigod, some servant ofKronos. If the blade falls into the Titan lord’s hands –’

Thalia shot to her feet. ‘You allowed the blade to be stolen! How stupid was that? Kronos probably has it by now!’

Thalia’s arrows sprouted into long-stemmed roses. Her bow melted into a honeysuckle vine dotted with white and gold flowers.

‘Take care, huntress,’ Persephone warned. ‘Your father may be Zeus, and you may be the lieutenant of Artemis, but you do not speak to me with disrespect in my own palace.’

Thalia ground her teeth. ‘Give… me… back… my… bow.’

Persephone waved her hand.The bow and arrows changed back to normal. ‘Now, sit and listen.The sword could not have left the Underworld yet. Lord Hades used his remaining keys to shut down the realm. Nothing gets in or out until he finds the sword, and he is using all his power to locate the thief.’

Thalia sat down reluctantly. ‘Then what do you need us for?’

‘The search for the blade cannot be common knowledge,’ said the goddess. ‘We have locked the realm, but we have not announced why, nor can Hades’s servants be used for the search.They must not know the blade exists until it is finished.Certainly they can’t know it is missing.’

‘If they thought Hades was in trouble, they might desert him,’ Nico guessed. ‘And join the Titans.’

Persephone didn’t answer, but if a goddess can look nervous, she did. ‘The thief must be a demigod. No immortal can steal another immortal’s weapon directly.Even Kronos must abide by that Ancient Law. He has a champion down here somewhere. And to catch a demigod… we shall use three.’

‘Why us?’ I said.

‘You are the children of the three major gods,’ Persephone said. ‘Who could withstand your combined power? Besides, when you restore the sword to Hades, you will send a message to Olympus. Zeus and Poseidon will not protest against Hades’s new weapon if it is given to him by their own children. It will show that you trust Hades.’

‘But I don’t trust him,’ Thalia said.

‘Ditto,’ I said. ‘Why should we do anything for Hades, much less give him a super-weapon? Right, Nico?’

Nico stared at the table. His fingers tapped on his black Stygian blade.

‘Right, Nico?’ I prompted.

It took him a second to focus on me. ‘I have to do this, Percy. He’s my father.’

‘Oh, no way,’ Thalia protested. ‘You can’t believe this is a good idea!’

‘Would you rather have the sword in Kronos’s hands?’

He had a point there.

‘Time is wasting,’ Persephone said. ‘The thief may have accomplices in the Underworld, and he will be looking for a way out.’

I frowned. ‘I thought you said the realm was locked.’

‘No prison is airtight, not even the Underworld. Souls are always finding new ways out faster than Hades can close them.You must retrieve the sword before it leaves our realm, or all is lost.’

‘Even if we wanted to,’ Thalia said, ‘how would we find this thief?’

A potted plant appeared on the table: a sickly yellow carnation with a few green leaves.The flower listed sideways, as if it were trying to find the sun.

‘This will guide you,’ the goddess said.

‘A magic carnation?’ I asked.

‘The flower always faces the thief. As your prey gets closer to escaping, the petals will fall off.’

Right on cue, a yellow petal turned grey and fluttered to the ground.

‘If all the petals fall off,’ Persephone said, ‘the flower dies.This means the thief has reached an exit and you have failed.’

I glanced atThalia. She didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the whole track-a-thief-with-a-flower thing.Then I looked at Nico. Unfortunately, I recognized the expression on his face. I knew what it was like wanting to make your dad proud, even if your dad was hard to love. In this case, really hard to love.

Nico was going to do this, with or without us. And I couldn’t let him go alone.

‘One condition,’ I told Persephone. ‘Hades will have to swear on the River Styx that he will never use this sword against the gods.’

The goddess shrugged. ‘I am not Lord Hades, but I am confident he would do this – as payment for your help.’

Another petal fell off the carnation.

I turned to Thalia. ‘I’ll hold the flower while you beat up the thief?’

She sighed. ‘Fine. Let’s go catch this jerk.’

The Underworld didn’t get into the Christmas spirit. As we made our way down the palace road into the Fields of Asphodel, it looked pretty much like it had on my previous visit – seriously depressing.Yellow grass and stunted black poplar trees rolled on forever. Shades drifted aimlessly across the hills, coming from nowhere and going nowhere, chattering to each other and trying to remember who they were in life. High above us, the cavern ceiling glistened darkly.

I carried the carnation, which made me feel pretty stupid. Nico led the way since his blade could clear a path through any crowd of undead.Thalia mostly grumbled that she should’ve known better than to go on a quest with a couple of boys.

‘Did Persephone seem kind of uptight?’ I asked.

Nico waded through a mob of ghosts, driving them back with Stygian iron. ‘She always acts that way when I’m around. She hates me.’

‘Then why did she include you in the quest?’

‘Probably my dad’s idea.’ He sounded like he wanted that to be true, but I wasn’t so sure.

It seemed strange to me that Hades hadn’t given us the quest himself. If this sword was so important to him, why had he let Persephone explain things? Usually Hades liked to threaten demigods in person.

Nico forged ahead. No matter how crowded the fields were – and if you’ve ever seen Times Square on New Year’s Eve, you’ll have a pretty good idea – the spirits parted before him.

‘He’s handy with zombie crowds,’ Thalia admitted. ‘Think I’ll take him along next time I go to the shopping mall.’

She gripped her bow tight, like she was afraid it would turn into a honeysuckle vine again. She didn’t look any older than she had last year, and it suddenly occurred to me that she would never age again now that she was a huntress.That meant I was older than her. Weird.

‘So,’ I said, ‘how’s immortality treating you?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘It’s not total immortality, Percy.You know that. We can still die in combat. It’s just… we don’t ever age or get sick, so we live forever, assuming we don’t get sliced to pieces by monsters.’

‘Always a danger.’

‘Always.’ She looked around, and I realized she was scanning the faces of the dead.

‘If you’re looking for Bianca,’ I said quietly, so Nico wouldn’t hear me, ‘she’d be in Elysium. She died a hero’s death.’

‘I know that,’ Thalia snapped.Then she caught herself. ‘It’s not that, Percy. I was just… never mind.’

A cold feeling washed over me. I remembered that Thalia’s mother had died in a car crash a few years ago.They’d never been close, but Thalia had never got to say goodbye. If her mother’s shade was wandering around down here – no wonder Thalia looked jumpy.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t thinking.’

Our eyes met, and I got the feeling she understood. Her expression softened. ‘It’s okay. Let’s just get this over with.’

Another petal fell off the carnation as we marched on.

I wasn’t happy when the flower pointed us towards the Fields of Punishment. I was hoping we’d veer into Elysium so we could hang out with the beautiful people and party, but no.The flower seemed to like the harshest, evillest part of the Underworld. We jumped over a lava stream and picked our way past scenes of horrible torture. I won’t describe them because you’d completely lose your appetite, but I wished I had cotton wool in my ears to shut out the screaming and the 1980s music.

The carnation tilted its face towards a hill on our left.

‘Up there,’ I said.

Thalia and Nico stopped.They were covered with soot from trudging through Punishment. I probably didn’t look much better.

A loud grinding noise came from the other side of the hill, like somebody was dragging a washing machine.Then the hill shook with a BOOM!BOOM!BOOM! and a man yelled curses.

Thalia looked at Nico. ‘Is that who I think it is?’

‘Afraid so,’ Nico said. ‘The number-one expert on cheating death.’

Before I could ask what he meant, he led us to the top of the hill.

The dude on the other side was not pretty, and he was not happy. He looked like one of those troll dolls with orange skin, a pot belly, scrawny legs and arms and a big loincloth/diaper thing around his waist. His ratty hair stuck up like a torch. He was hopping around, cursing and kicking a boulder that was twice as big as he was.

‘I won’t!’ he screamed. ‘No, no, no!’ Then he launched into a string of swear words in several different languages. If I’d had one of those jars where you put a quarter in for each bad word, I would’ve made around five hundred dollars. He started to walk away from the boulder, but after three metres he lurched backwards, like some invisible force had pulled him. He staggered back to the boulder and started banging his head against it.

‘All right!’ he screamed. ‘All right, curse you!’ He rubbed his head and muttered some more swear words. ‘But this is the last time. Do you hear me?’

Nico looked at us. ‘Come on. While he’s between attempts.’

We scrambled down the hill.

‘Sisyphus!’ Nico called.

The troll guy looked up in surprise.Then he scrambled behind his rock. ‘Oh, no! You’re not fooling me with those disguises! I know you’re the Furies!’

‘We’re not the Furies,’ I said. ‘We just want to talk.’

‘Go away!’ he shrieked. ‘Flowers won’t make it better. It’s too late to apologize!’

‘Look,’ Thalia said, ‘we just want –’

‘La-la-la!’ he yelled. ‘I’m not listening!’

We played tag with him round the boulder until finallyThalia, who was the quickest, caught the old man by his hair.

‘Stop it!’ he wailed. ‘I have rocks to move. Rocks to move!’

‘I’ll move your rock!’ Thalia offered. ‘Just shut up and talk to my friends.’

Sisyphus stopped fighting. ‘You’ll – you’ll move my rock?’

‘It’s better than looking at you.’ Thalia glanced at me. ‘Be quick about it.’ Then she shoved Sisyphus towards us. She put her shoulder against the rock and started pushing it very slowly uphill.

Sisyphus scowled at me distrustfully. He pinched my nose.

‘Ow!’ I said.

‘So you’re really not a Fury,’ he said in amazement. ‘What’s the flower for?’

‘We’re looking for someone,’ I said. ‘The flower is helping us find him.’

‘Persephone!’ He spat in the dust. ‘That’s one of her tracking devices, isn’t it?’ He leaned forward, and I caught an unpleasant whiff of old-guy-who’s-been-rolling-a-rock-for-eternity. ‘I fooled her once, you know. I fooled them all.’

I looked at Nico. ‘Translation?’

‘Sisyphus cheated death,’ Nico explained. ‘First he chained up Thanatos, the reaper of souls, so no one could die.Then when Thanatos got free and was about to kill him, Sisyphus told his wife not to do the correct funeral rites so he couldn’t rest in peace. Sisy here – May I call you Sisy?’

‘No!’

‘Sisy tricked Persephone into letting him go back to the world to haunt his wife. And he didn’t come back.’

The old man cackled. ‘I stayed alive another thirty years before they finally tracked me down!’

Thalia was halfway up the hill now. She gritted her teeth, pushing the boulder with her back. Her expression said, Hurry up!

‘So that was your punishment,’ I said to Sisyphus. ‘Rolling a boulder up a hill forever. Was it worth it?’

‘A temporary setback!’ Sisyphus cried. ‘I’ll bust out of here soon, and when I do they’ll all be sorry!’

‘How would you get out of the Underworld?’ Nico asked. ‘It’s locked down, you know.’

Sisyphus grinned wickedly. ‘That’s what the other one asked.’

My stomach tightened. ‘Someone else asked your advice?’

‘An angry young man,’ Sisyphus recalled. ‘Not very polite. Held a sword to my throat. Didn’t offer to roll my boulder at all.’

‘What did you tell him?’ Nico said. ‘Who was he?’

Sisyphus massaged his shoulders. He glanced up atThalia, who was almost at the top of the hill. Her face was bright red and drenched in sweat.

‘Oh… it’s hard to say,’ Sisyphus said. ‘Never seen him before. He carried a long package all wrapped up in black cloth. Skis, maybe? A shovel? Maybe if you wait here, I could go look for him…’

‘What did you tell him?’ I demanded.

‘Can’t remember.’

Nico drew his sword.The Stygian iron was so cold it steamed in the hot, dry air of Punishment. ‘Try harder.’

The old man winced. ‘What kind of person carries a sword like that?’

‘A son of Hades,’ Nico said. ‘Now answer me!’

The colour drained from Sisyphus’s face. ‘I told him to talk to Melinoe! She always has a way out!’

Nico lowered his sword. I could tell the name Melinoe bothered him. ‘All right. What did this demigod look like?’

‘Um… he had a nose,’ Sisyphus said. ‘A mouth. And one eye and –’

‘One eye?’ I interrupted. ‘Did he have an eye patch?’

‘Oh… maybe,’ Sisyphus said. ‘He had hair on his head. And –’ He gasped and looked over my shoulder. ‘There he is!’

We fell for it.

As soon as we turned, Sisyphus took off. ‘I’m free! I’m free! I’m – ACK!’ Three metres from the hill, he hit the end of his invisible leash and fell on his back. Nico and I grabbed his arms and hauled him up the hill.

‘Curse you!’ He let loose with bad words in Ancient Greek, Latin,English, French and several other languages I didn’t recognize. ‘I’ll never help you! Go to Hades!’

‘Already there,’ Nico muttered.

‘Incoming!’ Thalia shouted.

I looked up and might have used a few swear words myself.The boulder was bouncing straight towards us. Nico jumped one way. I jumped the other. Sisyphus yelled, ‘NOOOOOOO!’ as the thing ploughed into him. Somehow he braced himself and stopped it before it could run him over. I guess he’d had a lot of practice.

‘Take it again!’ he wailed. ‘Please. I can’t hold it.’

‘Not again,’ Thalia gasped. ‘You’re on your own.’

He treated us to a lot more colourful language. It was clear he wasn’t going to help us any further, so we left him to his punishment.

‘Melinoe’s cave is this way,’ Nico said.

‘If this thief guy really has one eye,’ I said, ‘that could be Ethan Nakamura, son of Nemesis. He’s the one who freed Kronos.’

‘I remember,’ Nico said darkly. ‘But if we’re dealing with Melinoe, we’ve got bigger problems.Come on.’

As we walked away, Sisyphus was yelling, ‘All right, but this is the last time. Do you hear me? The last time!’

Thalia shuddered.

‘You okay?’ I asked her.

‘I guess…’ She hesitated. ‘Percy, the scary thing is, when I got to the top, I thought I had it. I thought, this isn’t so hard. I can get the rock to stay. And as it rolled down, I was almost tempted to try it again. I figured I could get it the second time.’

She looked back wistfully.

‘Come on,’ I told her. ‘The sooner we’re out of here the better.’

We walked for what seemed like eternity.Three more petals withered from the carnation, which meant it was now officially half dead.The flower pointed towards a range of jagged grey hills that looked like teeth, so we trudged in that direction over a plain of volcanic rock.

‘Nice day for a stroll,’ Thalia muttered. ‘The Hunters are probably feasting in some forest glade right about now.’

I wondered what my family was doing. My mom and stepdad, Paul, would be worried when I didn’t come home from school, but it wasn’t the first time this had happened.They’d figure out pretty quickly that I was on some quest. My mom would be pacing back and forth in the living room, wondering if I was going to make it back to unwrap my presents.

‘So who is this Melinoe?’ I asked, trying to take my mind off home.

‘Long story,’ Nico said. ‘Long, very scary story.’

I was about to ask what he meant when Thalia dropped to a crouch. ‘Weapons!’

I drew Riptide. I’m sure I looked terrifying with a potted carnation in the other hand, so I put it down. Nico drew his sword. We stood back to back.T halia notched an arrow.

‘What is it?’ I whispered.

She seemed to be listening.Then her eyes widened. A ring of a dozen daemons materialized around us. They were part humanoid female, part bat.Their faces were pug-nosed and furry, with fangs and bulging eyes. Matted grey fur and piecemeal armour covered their bodies.They had shrivelled arms with claws for hands, leathery wings that sprouted from their backs and stubby bowed legs.They would’ve looked funny except for the murderous glow in their eyes.

‘Keres,’ Nico said.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Battlefield spirits.They feed on violent death.’

‘Oh, wonderful,’ Thalia said.

‘Get back!’ Nico ordered the daemons. ‘The son of Hades commands you!’

The Keres hissed.Their mouths foamed.They glanced apprehensively at our weapons, but I got the feeling the Keres weren’t impressed by Nico’s command.

‘Soon Hades will be defeated,’ one of them snarled. ‘Our new master shall give us free rein!’

Nico blinked. ‘New master?’

The lead daemon lunged. Nico was so surprised it might have slashed him to bits, butThalia shot an arrow point-blank into its ugly bat face, and the creature disintegrated.  
The rest of them charged.Thalia dropped her bow and drew her knives. I ducked as Nico’s sword whistled over my head, cutting a daemon in half. I sliced and jabbed and three or four Keres exploded around me, but more just kept coming.

‘Iapetus shall crush you!’ one shouted.

‘Who?’ I asked.Then I ran her through with my sword. Note to self: if you vapourize monsters, they can’t answer your questions.

Nico was also cutting an arc through the Keres. His black sword absorbed their essence like a vacuum cleaner, and the more he destroyed, the colder the air became around him.Thalia flipped a daemon on its back, stabbed it, and impaled another one with her second knife without even turning around.

‘Die in pain, mortal!’ Before I could raise my sword in defence, another daemon’s claws raked my shoulder. If I’d been wearing armour, no problem, but I was still in my school uniform.The thing’s talons sliced my shirt open and tore into my skin. My whole left side seemed to explode in pain.

Nico kicked the monster away and stabbed it. All I could do was collapse and curl into a ball, trying to endure the horrible burning.

The sound of battle died.Thalia and Nico rushed to my side.

‘Hold still, Percy,’ Thalia said. ‘You’ll be fine.’ But the quiver in her voice told me the wound was bad. Nico touched it and I yelled in pain.

‘Nectar,’ he said. ‘I’m pouring nectar on it.’

He uncorked a bottle of the godly drink and trickled it across my shoulder.This was dangerous – just a sip of the stuff is all most demigods can stand – but immediately the pain eased.Together, Nico and Thalia dressed the wound and I only passed out a few times. I couldn’t judge how much time went by, but the next thing I remember I was propped up with my back against a rock. My shoulder was bandaged.Thalia was feeding me tiny squares of chocolate-flavored ambrosia.

‘The Keres?’ I muttered.

‘Gone for now,’ she said. ‘You had me worried for a second, Percy, but I think you’ll make it.’

Nico crouched next to us. He was holding the potted carnation. Only five petals still clung to the flower.

‘The Keres will be back,’ he warned. He looked at my shoulder with concern. ‘That wound… the Keres are spirits of disease and pestilence as well as violence. We can slow down the infection, but eventually you’ll need serious healing. I mean a god’s power. Otherwise…’

He didn’t finish the thought.

‘I’ll be fine.’ I tried to sit up and immediately felt nauseous.

‘Slow,’ Thalia said. ‘You need rest before you can move.’

‘There’s no time.’ I looked at the carnation. ‘One of the daemons mentioned Iapetus. Am I remembering right? That’s a Titan?’

Thalia nodded uneasily. ‘The brother of Kronos, father of Atlas. He was known as the Titan of the West. His name means ‘the Piercer’ because that’s what he likes to do to his enemies. He was cast into Tartarus along with his brothers. He’s supposed to be still down there.’

‘But if the sword of Hades can unlock death?’ I asked.

‘Then maybe,’ Nico said, ‘it can also summon the damned out of Tartarus. We can’t let them try.’

‘We still don’t know who them is,’ Thalia said.

‘The half-blood working for Kronos,’ I said. ‘Probably Ethan Nakamura. And he’s starting to recruit some of Hades’s minions to his side – like the Keres.The daemons think that if Kronos wins the war, they’ll get more chaos and evil out of the deal.’

‘They’re probably right,’ Nico said. ‘My father tries to keep a balance. He reins in the more violent spirits. If Kronos appoints one of his brothers to be the lord of the Underworld –’

‘Like this Iapetus dude,’ I said.

‘– then the Underworld will get a lot worse,’ Nico said. ‘The Keres would like that. So would Melinoe.’

‘You still haven’t told us who Melinoe is.’

Nico chewed his lip. ‘She’s the goddess of ghosts – one of my father’s servants. She oversees the restless dead that walk the earth. Every night she rises from the Underworld to terrify mortals.’

‘She has her own path into the upper world?’

Nico nodded. ‘I doubt it would be blocked. Normally, no one would even think about trespassing in her cave.But if this demigod thief is brave enough to make a deal with her–’

‘He could get back to the world,’ Thalia supplied. ‘And take the sword to Kronos.’

‘Who would use it to raise his brothers from Tartarus,’ I guessed. ‘And we’d be in big trouble.’

I struggled to my feet. A wave of nausea almost made me black out, but Thalia grabbed me.

‘Percy,’ she said, ‘you’re in no condition –’

‘I have to be.’ I watched as another petal withered and fell off the carnation. Four left before doomsday. ‘Give me the potted plant. We have to find the cave of Melinoe.’

As we walked, I tried to think about positive things: my favourite basketball players, my last conversation with Annabeth, what my mom would make for Christmas dinner – anything but the pain. Still, it felt like a sabre-toothed tiger was chewing on my shoulder. I wasn’t going to be much good in a fight, and I cursed myself for letting down my guard. I should never have got hurt. Now Thalia and Nico would have to haul my useless butt through the rest of the mission.

I was so busy feeling sorry for myself I didn’t notice the sound of roaring water until Nico said, ‘Uh-oh.’

About fifteen metres ahead of us, a dark river churned through a gorge of volcanic rock. I’d seen the Styx, and this didn’t look like the same river. It was narrow and fast.The water was black as ink.Even the foam churned black.The far bank was only ten metres across, but that was too far to jump, and there was no bridge.

‘The River Lethe.’ Nico cursed in Ancient Greek. ‘We’ll never make it across.’

The flower was pointing to the other side – towards a gloomy mountain and a path leading up to a cave.Beyond the mountain, the walls of the Underworld loomed like a dark granite sky. I hadn’t considered that the Underworld might have an outer rim, but this appeared to be it.

‘There’s got to be a way across,’ I said.

Thalia knelt next to the bank.

‘Careful!’ Nico said. ‘This is the River of Forgetfulness. If one drop of that water gets on you, you’ll start to forget who you are.’

Thalia backed up. ‘I know this place. Luke told me about it once. Souls come here if they choose to be reborn, so they totally forget their former lives.’

Nico nodded. ‘Swim in that water and your mind will be wiped clean.You’ll be like a newborn baby.’

Thalia studied the opposite bank. ‘I could shoot an arrow across, maybe anchor a line to one of those rocks.’

‘You want to trust your weight to a line that isn’t tied off?’ Nico asked.

Thalia frowned. ‘You’re right. Works in the movies, but… no.Could you summon some dead people to help us?’

‘I could, but they would only appear on my side of the river. Running water acts as a barrier against the dead.They can’t cross it.’

I winced. ‘What kind of stupid rule is that?’

‘Hey, I didn’t make it up.’ He studied my face. ‘You look terrible, Percy.You should sit down.’

‘I can’t. You need me for this.’

‘For what?’ Thalia asked. ‘You can barely stand.’

‘It’s water, isn’t it? I’ll have to control it. Maybe I can redirect the flow long enough to get us across.’

‘In your condition?’ Nico said. ‘No way. I’d feel safer with the arrow idea.’

I staggered to the edge of the river.

I didn’t know if I could do this. I was the child of Poseidon, so controlling salt water was no problem. Regular rivers… maybe, if the river spirits were feeling cooperative. Magical Underworld rivers? I had no idea.

‘Stand back,’ I said.

I concentrated on the current – the raging black water rushing past. I imagined it was part of my own body, that I could control the flow, make it respond to my will. I wasn’t sure, but I thought the water churned and bubbled more violently, as if it could sense my presence. I knew I couldn’t stop the river altogether.The current would back up and flood the whole valley, exploding all over us as soon as I let it go.But there was another solution.

‘Here goes nothing,’ I muttered.

I raised my arms like I was lifting something over my head. My bad shoulder burned like lava, but I tried to ignore it. The river rose. It surged out of its banks, flowing up and then down again in a great arc – a raging black rainbow of water six metres high.The riverbed in front of us turned to drying mud, a tunnel under the river just wide enough for two people to walk side by side.

Thalia and Nico stared at me in amazement.

‘Go,’ I said. ‘I can’t hold this for long.’

Yellow spots danced in front of my eyes. My wounded shoulder nearly screamed in pain.Thalia and Nico scrambled into the riverbed and made their way across the sticky mud.

Not a single drop. I can’t let a single drop of water touch them.

The River Lethe fought me. It didn’t want to be forced out of its banks. It wanted to crash down on my friends, wipe their minds clean and drown them.But I held the arc.

Thalia climbed the opposite bank and turned to help Nico.

‘Come on, Percy!’ she said. ‘Walk!’

My knees were shaking. My arms trembled. I took a step forward and almost fell.The water arc quivered.

‘I can’t make it,’ I called.

‘Yes you can!’ Thalia said. ‘We need you!’

Somehow, I managed to climb down into the riverbed. One step, then another.The water surged above me. My boots squished in the mud.

Halfway across, I stumbled. I heard Thalia scream, ‘No!’ And my concentration broke.

As the River Lethe crashed down on me, I had time for one last desperate thought: Dry.

I heard the roar and felt the crash of tons of water as the river fell back into its natural course.But…

I opened my eyes. I was surrounded by darkness, but I was completely dry. A layer of air covered me like a second skin, shielding me from the effects of the water. I struggled to my feet.Even this small effort to stay dry – something I’d done many times in normal water – was almost more than I could handle. I slogged forward through the black current, blind and doubled over with pain.

I climbed out of the River Lethe, surprising Thalia and Nico, who jumped back a good two metres. I staggered forward, collapsed in front of my friends, and passed out cold.

The taste of nectar brought me around. My shoulder felt better, but I had an uncomfortable buzz in my ears. My eyes felt hot, like I had a fever.

‘We can’t risk any more nectar,’ Thalia was saying. ‘He’ll burst into flames.’

‘Percy,’ Nico said. ‘Can you hear me?’

‘Flames,’ I murmured. ‘Got it.’

I sat up slowly. My shoulder was newly bandaged. It still hurt, but I was able to stand.

‘We’re close,’ Nico said. ‘Can you walk?’

The mountain loomed above us. A dusty trail snaked up a hundred metres or so to the mouth of a cave.The path was lined with human bones for that extra-cosy feel.

‘Ready,’ I said.

‘I don’t like this,’ Thalia murmured. She cradled the carnation, which was pointing towards the cave.The flower now had two petals left, like very sad bunny ears.

‘A creepy cave,’ I said. ‘The goddess of ghosts. What’s not to like?’

As if in response, a hissing sound echoed down the mountain. White mist billowed from the cave like someone had turned on a dry-ice machine. In the fog, an image appeared – a tall woman with dishevelled blonde hair. She wore a pink bathrobe and had a wine glass in her hand. Her face was stern and disapproving. I could see right through her, so I knew she was a spirit of some kind, but her voice sounded real enough.

‘Now you come back,’ she growled. ‘Well, it’s too late!’

I looked at Nico and whispered, ‘Melinoe?’

Nico didn’t answer. He stood frozen, staring at the spirit.

Thalia lowered her bow. ‘Mother?’ Her eyes teared up. Suddenly she looked about seven years old.

The spirit threw down her wine glass. It shattered and dissolved into the fog. ‘That’s right, girl. Doomed to walk the earth, and it’s your fault! Where were you when I died? Why did you run away when I needed you?’

‘I – I –’

‘Thalia,’ I said. ‘It’s just a shade. It can’t hurt you.’

‘I’m more than that,’ the spirit growled. ‘And Thalia knows it.’

‘But – you abandoned me,’ Thalia said.

‘You wretched girl! Ungrateful runaway!’

‘Stop!’ Nico stepped forward with his sword drawn, but the spirit changed form and faced him.

This ghost was harder to see. She was a woman in an old-fashioned black velvet dress with a matching hat. She wore a string of pearls and white gloves, and her dark hair was tied back.

Nico stopped in his tracks. ‘No…’

‘My son,’ the ghost said. ‘I died when you were so young. I haunt the world in grief, wondering about you and your sister.’

‘Mama?’

‘No, it’s my mother,’ Thalia murmured, as if she still saw the first image.

My friends were helpless.The fog began thickening around their feet, twining around their legs like vines. The colours seemed to fade from their clothes and faces, as if they too had become shades.

‘Enough,’ I said, but my voice hardly worked. Despite the pain, I lifted my sword and stepped towards the ghost. ‘You’re not anybody’s mama!’

The ghost turned towards me.The image flickered, and I saw the goddess of ghosts in her true form.

You’d think after a while I would stop getting freaked out by the appearance of Greek ghoulies, but Melinoe caught me by surprise. Her right half was pale chalky white, like she’d been drained of blood. Her left half was pitch black and hardened like mummy skin. She wore a golden dress and a golden shawl. Her eyes were empty black voids and, when I looked into them, I felt as if I were seeing my own death.

‘Where are your ghosts?’ she demanded in irritation.

‘My… I don’t know. I don’t have any.’

She snarled. ‘Everyone has ghosts – deaths you regret. Guilt. Fear. Why can I not see yours?’

Thalia and Nico were still entranced, staring at the goddess as if she were their long-lost mother. I thought about other friends I’d seen die– Bianca di Angelo, Zoë Nightshade, Lee Fletcher, to name a few.

‘I’ve made my peace with them,’ I said. ‘They’ve passed on.They’re not ghosts. Now let my friends go!’

I slashed at Melinoe with my sword. She backed up quickly, growling in frustration.The fog dissipated around my friends.They stood blinking at the goddess as if they were now seeing how hideous she was.

‘What is that?’ Thalia said. ‘Where –’

‘It was a trick,’ Nico said. ‘She fooled us.’

‘You are too late, demigods,’ Melinoe said. Another petal fell off my carnation, leaving only one. ‘The deal has been struck.’

‘What deal?’ I demanded.

Melinoe made a hissing sound, and I realized it was her way of laughing. ‘So many ghosts, my young demigod. They long to be unleashed. When Kronos rules the world, I shall be free to walk among mortals both night and day, sowing terror as they deserve.’

‘Where’s the sword of Hades?’ I demanded. ‘Where’s Ethan?’

‘Close,’ Melinoe promised. ‘I will not stop you. I will not need to. Soon, Percy Jackson, you will have many ghosts. And you will remember me.’

Thalia notched an arrow and aimed it at the goddess. ‘If you open a path to the world, do you really think Kronos will reward you? He’ll cast you into Tartarus along with the rest of Hades’s servants.’

Melinoe bared her teeth. ‘Your mother was right, Thalia.You are an angry girl. Good at running away. Not much else.’

The arrow flew, but as it touched Melinoe she dissolved into fog, leaving nothing but the hiss of her laughter.Thalia’s arrow hit the rocks and shattered harmlessly.

‘Stupid ghost,’ she muttered.

I could tell she was really shaken up. Her eyes were rimmed with red. Her hands trembled. Nico looked just as stunned, like someone had smacked him between the eyes.

‘The thief…’ he managed. ‘Probably in the cave. We have to stop him before –’

Just then, the last petal fell off the carnation.The flower turned black and wilted.

‘Too late,’ I said.

A man’s laughter echoed down the mountain.

‘You’re right about that,’ a voice boomed. At the mouth of the cave stood two people – a boy with an eye patch and a three-metre-tall man in a tattered prison jumpsuit.The boy I recognized:Ethan Nakamura, son of Nemesis. In his hands was an unfinished sword – a doubleedged blade of black Stygian iron with skeletal designs etched in silver. It had no hilt, but set in the base of the blade was a golden key, just like I’d seen in Persephone’s image.The key was glowing, as if Ethan had already invoked its power.  
The giant man next to him had eyes of pure silver. His face was covered with a scraggly beard and his grey hair stuck out wildly. He looked thin and haggard in his ripped prison clothes, as though he’d spent the last few thousand years at the bottom of a pit, but even in this weakened state he looked plenty scary. He held out his hand and a giant spear appeared. I remembered what Thalia had said about Iapetus: His name means ‘the Piercer’ because that’s what he likes to do to his enemies.

The Titan smiled cruelly. ‘And now I will destroy you.’

‘Master!’ Ethan interrupted. He was dressed in combat fatigues with a backpack slung over his shoulder. His eye patch was crooked, his face smeared with soot and sweat. ‘We have the sword. We should –’

‘Yes, yes,’ the Titan said impatiently. ‘You’ve done well, Nawaka.’

‘It’s Nakamura, master.’

‘Whatever. I’m sure my brotherKronos will reward you.But now we have killing to attend to.’

‘My lord,’ Ethan persisted. ‘You’re not at full power. We should ascend and summon your brothers from the upper world. Our orders were to flee.’

The Titan whirled on him. ‘FLEE? Did you say FLEE?’

The ground rumbled.Ethan fell on his butt and scrambled backwards.The unfinished sword of Hades clattered to the rocks. ‘M-m-master, please –’

‘IAPETUS DOES NOT FLEE! I have waited three aeons to be summoned from the pit. I want revenge, and I will start by killing these weaklings!’

He levelled his spear at me and charged.

If he’d been at full strength, I have no doubt he would’ve pierced me right through the middle.Even weakened and just out of the pit, the guy was fast. He moved like a tornado, slashing so quickly I barely had time to dodge the strike before his spear impaled the rock where I’d been standing.

I was so dizzy I could barely hold my sword. Iapetus yanked the spear out of the rock, but as he turned to face me Thalia shot his flank full of arrows from his shoulder to his knee. He roared and turned on her, looking more angry than hurt.Ethan Nakamura tried to draw his own sword, but Nico yelled, ‘I don’t think so!’

The ground erupted in front of Ethan.Three armoured skeletons climbed out and engaged Ethan, pushing him back.The sword of Hades still lay on the rocks. If I could only get to it…

Iapetus slashed with his spear and Thalia leaped out of the way. She dropped her bow so she could draw her knives, but she wouldn’t last long in close combat.  
Nico left Ethan to the skeletons and charged Iapetus. I was already ahead of him. It felt like my shoulder was going to explode, but I launched myself at the Titan and stabbed downward with Riptide, impaling the blade in the Titan’s calf.

‘AHHHH!’ Golden ichor gushed from the wound. Iapetus whirled and the shaft of his spear slammed into me, sending me flying. I crashed into the rocks, right next to the River Lethe.

‘YOU DIE FIRST!’ Iapetus roared as he hobbled towards me.Thalia tried to get his attention by zapping him with an arc of electricity from her knives, but she might as well have been a mosquito. Nico stabbed with his sword but Iapetus knocked him aside without even looking. ‘I will kill you all! Then I will cast your souls into the eternal darkness of Tartarus!’

My eyes were full of spots. I could barely move. Another couple of centimetres and I would fall into the river headfirst.

The river.

I swallowed, hoping my voice still worked. ‘You’re – you’re even uglier than your son,’ I taunted the Titan. ‘I can see where Atlas gets his stupidity from.’

Iapetus snarled. He limped forward, raising his spear.

I didn’t know if I had the strength, but I had to try. Iapetus brought the spear down and I lurched sideways.The shaft impaled the ground right next to me. I reached up and grabbed his shirt collar, counting on the fact that he was off balance as well as hurt. He tried to regain his footing, but I pulled him forward with all my body weight. He stumbled and fell, grabbing my arms in a panic, and together we pitched into the Lethe.

FLOOOOOM! I was immersed in black water.

I prayed to Poseidon that my protection would hold and, as I sank to the bottom, I realized I was still dry. I knew my own name. And I still had the Titan by the shirt collar.  
The current should’ve ripped him out of my hands, but somehow the river was channelling itself around me, leaving us alone. With my last bit of strength, I climbed out of the river, dragging Iapetus with my good arm. We collapsed on the riverbank – me perfectly dry, the Titan dripping wet. His pure silver eyes were as big as moons.

Thalia and Nico stood over me in amazement. Up by the cave,Ethan Nakamura was just cutting down the last skeleton. He turned and froze when he saw his Titan ally spread eagled on the ground.

‘My – my lord?’ he called.

Iapetus sat up and stared at him.Then he looked at me and smiled.

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Who am I?’

‘You’re my friend,’ I blurted out. ‘You’re… Bob.’

That seemed to please him greatly. ‘I am your friend Bob!’

Clearly, Ethan could tell things were not going his way. He glanced at the sword of Hades lying in the dirt, but before he could lunge for it, a silver arrow sprouted in the ground at his feet.

‘Not today, kid,’ Thalia warned. ‘One more step and I’ll pin your feet to the rocks.’

Ethan ran – straight into the cave of Melinoe. Thalia took aim at his back, but I said, ‘No. Let him go.’

She frowned but lowered her bow.

I wasn’t sure why I wanted to spare Ethan. I guess we’d had enough fighting for one day, and in truth I felt sorry for the kid. He would be in enough trouble when he reported back to Kronos.

Nico picked up the sword of Hades reverently. ‘We did it. We actually did it.’

‘We did?’ Iapetus asked. ‘Did I help?’

I managed a weak smile. ‘Yeah, Bob.You were great.’

We got an express ride back to the palace of Hades. Nico sent word ahead, thanks to some ghost he’d summoned out of the ground, and within a few minutes the Three Furies themselves arrived to ferry us back.They weren’t thrilled about lugging Bob the Titan, too, but I didn’t have the heart to leave him behind, especially after he noticed my shoulder wound, said, ‘Owie,’ and healed it with a touch.

Anyway, by the time we arrived in the throne room of Hades, I was feeling great.The Lord of the Dead sat on his throne of bones, glowering at us and stroking his black beard like he was contemplating the best way to torture us. Persephone sat next to him, not saying a word, as Nico explained about our adventure.

Before we gave back the sword, I insisted that Hades take an oath not to use it against the gods. His eyes flared like he wanted to incinerate me, but finally he made the promise through clenched teeth.

Nico laid the sword at his father’s feet and bowed, waiting for a reaction.

Hades looked at his wife. ‘You defied my direct orders.’

I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but Persephone didn’t react, even under his piercing gaze.

Hades turned back to Nico. His gaze softened just a little, like rock soft rather than steel. ‘You will speak of this to no one.’

‘Yes, lord,’ Nico agreed.

The god glared at me. ‘And if your friends do not hold their tongues, I will cut them out.’

‘You’re welcome,’ I said.

Hades stared at the sword. His eyes were full of anger and something else – something like hunger. He snapped his fingers.The Furies fluttered down from the top of his throne.

‘Return the blade to the forges,’ he told them. ‘Stay with the smiths until it is finished, and then return it to me.’

The Furies swirled into the air with the weapon, and I wondered how soon I would be regretting this day. There were ways around oaths, and I imagined Hades would be looking for one.

‘You are wise, my lord,’ Persephone said.

‘If I were wise,’ he growled, ‘I would lock you in your chambers. If you ever disobey me again –’

He let the threat hang in the air.Then he snapped his fingers and vanished into darkness.

Persephone looked even paler than usual. She took a moment to smooth her dress, then turned towards us. ‘You have done well, demigods.’ She waved her hand and three red roses appeared at our feet. ‘Crush these, and they will return you to the world of the living. You have my lord’s thanks.’

‘I could tell,’ Thalia muttered.

‘Making the sword was your idea,’ I realized. ‘That’s why Hades wasn’t there when you gave us the mission. Hades didn’t know the sword was missing. He didn’t even know it existed.’

‘Nonsense,’ the goddess said.

Nico clenched his fists. ‘Percy’s right.You wanted Hades to make a sword. He told you no. He knew it was too dangerous.The other gods would never trust him. It would undo the balance of power.’

‘Then it got stolen,’ Thalia said. ‘You shut down the Underworld, not Hades. You couldn’t tell him what had happened. And you needed us to get the sword back before Hades found out. You used us.’

Persephone moistened her lips. ‘The important thing is that Hades has now accepted the sword. He will have it finished, and my husband will become as powerful as Zeus or Poseidon. Our realm will be protected against Kronos… or any others who try to threaten us.’

‘And we’re responsible,’ I said miserably.

‘You’ve been very helpful,’ Persephone agreed. ‘Perhaps a reward for your silence –’

‘You’d better go,’ I said, ‘before I carry you down to the Lethe and throw you in. Bob will help me. Won’t you, Bob?’

‘Bob will help you!’ Iapetus agreed cheerfully.

Persephone’s eyes widened, and she disappeared in a shower of daisies.

Nico, Thalia and I said our goodbyes on a balcony overlooking Asphodel. Bob the Titan sat inside, building a toy house out of bones and laughing every time it collapsed.

‘I’ll watch him,’ Nico said. ‘He’s harmless now. Maybe… I don’t know. Maybe we can retrain him to do something good.’

‘Are you sure you want to stay here?’ I asked. ‘Persephone will make your life miserable.’

‘I have to,’ he insisted. ‘I have to get close to my dad. He needs a better adviser.’

I couldn’t argue with that. ‘Well, if you need anything –’

‘I’ll call,’ he promised. He shook hands with Thalia and me. He turned to leave, but he looked at me one more time. ‘Percy, you haven’t forgotten my offer?’

A shiver went down my spine. ‘I’m still thinking about it.’

Nico nodded. ‘Well, whenever you’re ready.’

After he was gone, Thalia said, ‘What offer?’

‘Something he told me last summer,’ I said. ‘A possible way to fight Kronos. It’s dangerous. And I’ve had enough danger for one day.’

Thalia nodded. ‘In that case, still up for dinner?’

I couldn’t help but smile. ‘After all that, you’re hungry?’

‘Hey,’ she said, ‘even immortals have to eat. I’m thinking cheeseburgers at McHale’s.’

And together we crushed the roses that would return us to the world.


	15. Camp Half-Blood Confidential

We went about our usual routines—combat practice, volleyball practice, archery practice, strawberry-picking practice (don’t ask), lava-wall-climbing practice….You’ll find we practice a lot here. We would have spent the evening in the usual way, too, with a campfire sing-along, if not for an offhand comment Nico di Angelo dropped at dinner. We were talking about what changes each of us would make if we ran the camp, and Nico said:

“First thing I’d do is make sure the poor newbie demigods don’t have to suffer through the orientation film.”

All conversation stopped. “What orientation film?” Will Solace asked.

Nico looked puzzled. “You know….” He glanced side to side, clearly uncomfortable with everybody watching him. Finally he cleared his throat and sang in a warbly voice to the tune of “The Hokey Pokey”: “It lets the demigods in! It shuts the monsters out! It keeps the half-bloods safe, but turns mortals all about! It’s Misty, and it’s magic, and it makes me want to shout: the border is all about!” He punctuated the last line of the song with some halfhearted claps.

We stared at him in stunned silence.

“Nico.” Will patted his boyfriend’s arm. “You’re scaring the other campers.”

“More than usual,” Julia Feingold muttered under her breath.

“Oh, come on,” Nico protested. “You’ve all heard that annoying song, right? It’s from Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”

Nobody responded.

“The orientation film,” Nico added.

We shared a group shrug.

Nico groaned. “You mean I just sang in public and…I’m the only one who’s ever seen that stupid film?”

“So far, anyway,” said Connor Stoll. He leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Where, exactly, did you see this cinematic masterpiece?”

“Chiron’s office in the Big House,” Nico replied.

I glanced at Nico. “Now look what you’ve started.”

He snorted. “This is my fault? What do you want me to do—stop them?”

“Stop them?” I grinned. “Nah, man. I think we should get some popcorn ready.”

I delivered my first prophecy less than a minute after I accepted the spirit of Delphi. (If you want to know about the events triggered by those words, just ask any camper who lived through it. If you want to ask a camper who died through it, Nico di Angelo might set up a meet.) I thought I was prepared for the experience. I mean, I’d been channeling visions and seeing weird things most of my life. How different could mind-melding with an ancient spirit be?

PJ: We’re a little limited on time, so let’s get right to the questions.

_So, do I get to keep the T-shirt?_

PJ: You do, but since clothes tend to get slashed, burned, and bloodied here, you might want to purchase additional ones at the camp store.

AC: Percy!

PJ: What? Oh. Guess that makes life here sound a little dangerous.

NDA: Deadly, even.

AC: Nico!

PJ and NDA: Anna-be-eth!

AC: Idiots.

PJ: You’ll be fine here. Probably. It’s when you go on a quest that you’ll encounter…trouble.

_A quest? Do I have to go on a quest?_

AC: You may not believe it now, because this is all so new to you, but getting picked for a quest is every demigod’s dream. It’s what we train for. It’s what we’re born to do.

PJ: You might not get picked right away. I mean, sure, I did—I was here, what, less than a week before I headed out to face death?

AC: You were a special case, Seaweed Brain.

PJ: Aw, you called me special!

NDA: She also called you Seaweed Brain.

_“Face death”? Am I going to die?_

NDA: I’ll take this one. Yes, you will die—someday. When you do, you’ll go to live, er, to exist in the Underworld.

PJ: Leo didn’t.

NDA: Leo cheated death with a potion that he shouldn’t have had. Without it, he’d have stayed dead. Like he was supposed to.

PJ: Hazel came back too.

NDA: That’s totally different! I brought her back on purpose.

PJ: Just saying that not everyone who dies stays dead.

NDA: Next question.

What if I don’t like it here? Can I go home?

AC: I’ve never been homesick. I bet that feeling stinks. But before you pack your bags for home, ask yourself, who will protect you out there in the mortal world? Who will teach you to use your powers? Who will really understand what it’s like to be a demigod?

PJ: You can always Iris-message home. I hear moms in particular like that.

_Will my conversations be private, or does Iris stay on the line?_

PJ: You know, I never thought about that.

AC: I’m sure Iris hits mute. Plus, these days she’s too busy running Rainbow Organic Foods and Lifestyles—her new whole-foods, gluten-free, vegan business—to listen in.

NDA: Gods, I’d rather be stuck in a bronze jar with only pomegranate deathtrance seeds again than eat that ROFL stuff. How long has Camp Half-Blood been here?

PJ: Oh, man, that’s a toughie. Some date it to the 1860s—

AC: But George Washington was a demigod, so if he trained here, the American version of the camp could be a hundred years older. Wow, I’m going to have to research that.

NDA: You newcomers could always ask your godly parents, but honestly, time is so different for the deities I bet he or she doesn’t know, either.

Where was it before? I mean, after ancient Greece?

PJ: Um…Annabeth, you want to take this one?

AC: Well, there was Rome, obviously. After the fall of the empire, the camp kind of moved from country to country, depending on which one was the major power of the time. I’m not sure of the exact locations, actually. You’d have to ask Chiron.

PJ: Congrats, kid, you stumped a daughter of the Wise One!

_Last question: Will I really get zapped by lightning if I call Zeus’s Fist the “Poop Pile”?_

PJ: Only one way to find out!

NDA: Go ahead, kid! I’m sure my dad would love to meet you.

AC: Percy! Nico!

PJ and NDA: Anna-be-eth!

From what I’ve heard, the off-season is a great time for demigods to work on pet projects. For instance, this winter Malcolm will begin weaving the Polias peplos for the Panathenaia (try saying that ten times fast!). Will and Nico hope to find a way to keep Nico from passing out after he shadowtravels. (Did we forget to tell you what that was? Ask Nico about it sometime. Or have him demonstrate—just be ready to catch him.) I suspect Miranda Gardiner and Sherman Yang will be doing many things together; I won’t say more, out of respect for their privacy.

NICO DI ANGELO—Son of Hades, god of the Underworld, and Maria di Angelo. Black hair, black eyes, pale skin. Very powerful. Travels regularly between camp and the Underworld. First Greek demigod to learn of Camp Jupiter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Riordan comes out with new books I'll do those too. Until then, stay alive!

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when Nico used to be super happy and pure and excited?


End file.
